Archive of Our Own ^beta

Todd took a slow turn at the intersection, carefully checking the navigator to ensure he was going in the right direction. All he could see were thick forests and rare lanterns, places there less because they were needed but because the law required them to be. Getting lost 

Tall trees surrounded the winding road. Here and there the road split into smaller branches, reaching into the darkness before disappearing among the trunks, seemingly trying to reach the heart of nature. There were few other cars, occasionally a lorry. Todd could have sworn he had seen actual cows on one of the fields he’s passed, but they disappeared too quickly to tell for certain. At another intersection, he noticed what looked like a modernised inn. A couple cars happily turned towards it, pulling by its tall walls to take a break. Checking the maps, he decided to pass by. Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer.

Indeed, slowly the scenery shifted. The forest parted unwillingly; the first houses began appearing more and more. They huddled together, fences touching, clinging just at the edges of nature. Slowly, they grew taller. Todd saw several bus stops pass by.

His phone buzzed insistently. Rolling his eyes, he picked up the call, knowing better than to leave it for voicemail. 

“Hey, dude!” Larry greeted, surprisingly cheerful for such an early morning. “You haven’t gotten lost, have you?”

“Hi,” Todd returned. “Not from what I can tell. It will be a few more minutes before I reach your place, more if there’s any trouble.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. We don’t get traffic jams here since there aren’t enough cars around for that. I’ve been out for the morning but should be done when you arrive. Tell you what, let’s meet at the entrance. You’ll need an entrance pass anyway, and I don’t feel like walking.”

Todd snorted. “That sounds more like it. You have five minutes.”

“Be there in two.”

For once, Larry kept his promise. When Todd finally pulled up to the needed barrier, the punk was already there, talking busily with another man. The guard sat on a porch of a rather small house, which must have served as the post, and listened to whatever Larry was trying to explain to him. Laughter echoed from outside.

Finally, they finished and, having shaken hands, Larry turned to the car and got inside, still grinning.

“Nice to see you, man!” Larry said, offering Todd his hand as well. “It’s been ages since you last came. I would have started preparing a search party if Ash hadn’t called.”

“I was replying to your texts if you’ve forgotten,” Todd pointed out, passing under the now-opened barrier. “There was absolutely no need to search for anyone.”

“Well,” Larry shrugged, “someone could have been pretending to be you. Can’t blame us for worrying when it seems all you’ve been doing recently is work and work, then work some more. We were getting worried we would have to bury you because of working too much or some shit.”

Todd’s fingers tightened around the wheel. “We simply had a lot of work recently, nothing else. The market has been competitive; we had to work harder to ensure our team remained on top of things here.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude. Take a right turn here.”

Following directions, they made their way to his house. According to Larry, the actual town was surrounded by a private, a little more rustic area with private homes rather than apartment blocks and townhouses. Those could be seen in the distance, but even then, they remained smaller than in an actual city, more reserved. Everywhere one looked, there were trees - delicate birches that bent over surprisingly decent roads, silent pines and fir trees observing newcomers from their impressive height. It felt less like people infringing on the woods and more like the forest parting, inviting the humans into its abode. 

They stopped at the end of one of the smaller streets, right at the corner. Larry hopped out to open the gates, cursing quietly at the broken mechanism.

“The last owners haven’t bothered with upkeep,” he explained once Todd parked his car. “The old thing lasted us a few years before finally falling to one of the thunderstorms last week. I’ve been meaning to have a look at it ever since.”

Todd nodded thoughtfully, looking around. For all his infamous sloppiness, Larry was a fair hand at actual maintenance. Having learned to work with just about anything a household can have since childhood, Larry used to help his mother around their apartment block, cleaning and fixing whatever other tenants needed. They had often experimented in Todd’s room, modifying things to last longer or taking them apart for spare parts, when the patient was beyond repair.

Judging by the state of the house and the territory he could see, Larry hadn’t changed. The place looked well taken care of, if a little modest. 

“You seem to have things figured out,” Todd pointed out, walking over to one of the flowerbeds to take a look at it. “Although I never took you for a gardener.”

“And right you didn’t,” Larry laughed. “The decor is mum’s achievement. She has taken to planting pretty things in her spare time, I’m mainly used as muscles and fix-it when shit breaks.”

“Does she grow any vegetables or fruits?”

“A lot of it. Sometimes it feels like she likes her bushes more than us with how much she fusses.” Larry chuckled.

Tod smirked, straightening. “If you were my son, I’d pick bushes.”

Bickering with each other, they made their way around the house and later inside. The more they talked, the more at ease Todd felt. A knot he had been carrying in his chest for months slowly began unravelling. It got easier to breathe. For all his insistence otherwise, he was glad to have a chance to see his friends. Even if the reason for such a visit could have been better.

Together, they quickly unpacked his things. Well, Todd did most of the work while Larry lay on the bed in the room, reciting the few rules they had around the house, seasoning them with countless jokes and irony. There wasn’t anything surprising: no hogging the shower, keep your place clean, do not argue if Lisa dragged you outside for help. Larry’s comments made them much funnier, and soon Todd found himself smiling at the running commentary.

Although it had been years, Larry hadn’t changed one bit. He still largely preferred t-shirts, picking any and all his favourite bands offered, and wore the same paint-stained jeans even in hot weather. His hair was still long but surprisingly tidy, with a generous undercut to thin the mane somewhat. 

When Todd pointed it out, teasing him about betraying his old school promise, Larry only grinned back at him.

“Dying from overheating is unpleasant and long,” he replied brightly. “Now, overdosing on sleeping pills is a much better alternative. I’d also pick heights, but there isn’t shit around here.”

The only other notable change was his friend’s soulmark. Todd noticed it accidentally when Larry had shifted slightly, turning on his other side to get more comfortable on the bed. Had he not known where to look, Todd would not have recognised it, likely mistaken for a rather large tattoo. The design itself had changed, shifting from a few forget-me-nots at his wrist to long vines. They circled around Larry’s arm, climbing all the way from his fingertips to his shoulder, wrapping gently around the entire limb. Bright blue flowers almost glowed in the semi-darkness of the room, happily glancing at Todd from around their leaves.

Todd subconsciously rubbed his own hand, suddenly uncomfortable. His mark had long faded, shifting from a vibrant excitement to an almost unnoticeable black-and-white crescent moon that almost wrapped around his wrist, cold and void of any feeling.

Larry noticed Todd’s gaze. Instead of addressing it in any way, the other only grinned at him, announcing it was time for some food.

“I’ll feed ya, and then we’ll head to the town,” Larry explained as he led them into the kitchen. “Sal’s working today, so we’ll just have to visit him.”

“Can’t we wait until he returns?” Todd asked. “I wouldn’t wish to distract him from anything important.”

Larry only brushed him off. “Pft, he runs a tea-house, not some fancy corporate job. If anything, he’d be glad to see us. There’s always something to do around the place, and it gets rather quiet just before the evening.”

Todd didn’t bother arguing. If Larry had decided to do something, they would be doing it regardless of logic, common sense or self-preservation instincts.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After a rather filling lunch, courtesy of Lisa, as Larry had explained, they set out for the tea-house.

All the way there, Larry kept talking. He babbled happily at Todd, telling him tidbits about everything and anything they passed, starting from a startlingly cheerful story about one of the lampposts to a rather disturbing story of the town itself. Todd allowed himself to just listen. Occasionally he would ask a question or two, particularly when Larry abruptly shifted topics in his excitement to show off, but little more than that. It was hardly needed anyway, and it was nice to listen to those stories even if, at times, following Larry was rather challenging.

It was a pleasant contrast from the hubbub of the city. As they moved further away from the private sector and towards the town itself, more and more people appeared on the streets, all of them wandering around, not one hurrying past. Some of them stopped to chat with Larry, a few even asking about Todd as well; the rest merely nodded in quiet greetings. Somehow even the cars appeared to be driving quieter than they did in a city. Todd would have never believed driving so quietly was even possible had he not been a witness to it.

When he asked, Larry only shrugged.

“People here are more chill, dude,” he replied simply, walking on as if it was not in any way unusual. “There aren’t too many places to be here. Most come here to relax from their homes back with civilisation, so it’s expected to be quiet.“

Todd nodded thoughtfully. That did explain a few things. And then the town centre, or what constituted as one in the town, appeared in the view, further driving the point home.

They slowly reached a small square. There were a lot of short, one-story buildings, divided neatly into equally tiny places for local businesses. There didn’t seem to be any sort of system. A cheese shop neighboured a small bookstore, a few cafes fought for attention on the other side of the square, some even managing to offer outside seating. 

Todd wondered just how many people could fit inside. It can’t have been more than ten, which raised another question of just how those tiny businesses kept afloat. The revenue couldn’t have been high enough to support them, could it?

Larry led them towards one of the larger shops. The tea-house in question was located just across the square from them in one of the larger buildings, nestled between two more popular chain shops that Todd had seen a few times around his own city. There were a few people outside. They sat under portable umbrellas, sipping their tea and enjoying the sunshine, smiling at Larry as he led the two of them inside. 

Inside, the shop wasn’t much busier. Two teenagers, one girl and a boy, were playfully arguing as they polished the cups and bustled the few occupied tables, happily chatting with the customers and somehow managing to appear as if in several places at once. Behind the counter, meanwhile, stood the man Todd assumed to be Sal.

Sal was an intimidating man. If someone were to ask, Todd would never be able to pinpoint what exactly made him stand out. A part of him wanted to say it was just the mask, the unsettling cold cower he had over the face with only sharp blue eyes peeking ominously from two dark holes in the material, but that was it. It was everything about the man: his short but rather powerful build that somehow managed to balance just androgynously enough to make one take a double look; the long blue hair pulled back into a bun, the strong hands that were polishing a porcelain cup. He simply had an air of danger around him which, peculiarly, did not seem to discourage his customers one bit.

Todd couldn’t decide whether it should be admirable or unsettling. If he were honest, he would have never managed to imagine someone like Sal owning and personally working in a tea-house, of all things. Being a rocker certainly would have suited the man much better, though, perhaps, that was precisely the reason why Larry and he had ended up together.

Naturally, Larry made a beeline for the man. Although Todd could not see Larry’s face anymore, he could still practically see his friend grinning. Todd, on the other hand, found himself hesitating slightly.

As it always happened when he was with Larry, the choice was taken out of his hands.

“Hey, beautiful,” Larry offered, leaning against the counter. “I brought another person for you to work your magic on. Todd, this is Sal, the best tea-brewer in this shithole and a real magician. Sal, this is Todd, my old friend. He looks like he needs a cup of tea, don’t you think so?”

Sal hummed behind his mask, turning his gaze to look at Todd. It was a rather heavy look, and for a brief moment, Todd felt as if he was a bug a scientist was studying under a microscope.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said somewhat awkwardly, offering his hand for a shake. “Larry has been rather insistent that I meet you.”

“That tends to happen when friends don’t visit,” Sal returned, shaking the offered hand, his own hidden behind gloves. They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Sal said suddenly, almost startling Todd, “Anything you shouldn’t be eating?”

“Excuse me?” Todd asked, cautiously.

“Do you have any allergies?” Larry translated. “We want you to have a good time here, not end up poisoned because you ate something wrong.”

Somehow Todd doubted Sal shared the sentiment, but didn’t point it out.

“Nothing with nuts or honey,” he replied instead. “And no lactose. Intolerance isn’t much better than an allergy.”

Sal nodded thoughtfully, regarding him for a moment longer.

“Sea buckhorn tea then,” he murmured as if to himself and then glanced at Larry. “And Golden Ceylon.”

“You got it,” Larry replied, a sharp grin still on his face. “We’ll sit here if you don’t mind. Won’t want to crowd one of the tables you might actually use.”

Sal snorted and only waved his hand. That seemed to be more than enough for Larry because the next moment Todd found himself on one of the high chairs behind the counter, his friend plastered on his left.

“What was that?” Todd asked quietly, mindful not to let Sal hear it. As weird as the experience had been, he doubted anyone would appreciate it being pointed out.

“That was why Sal’s shop is practically the only one worth coming to,” Larry explained. “I don’t know how the fuck he does it, but he just knows what tea you need, dude. Like magic.”

“Magic isn’t real.”

“Maybe it isn’t,” Larry replied easily, shrugging. “But the shit’s real. I swear, you’re going to have an amazing tea, better than anything you’ve tried, and it will fit the vibe. If it doesn’t, Sal won’t make us pay for it.”

Todd arched his eyebrow. “It is statistically improbable that anyone could guess an order.”

“Statistics, shmatistics, this is magic, dude. When have I lied to you?”

“Do you want it alphabetically or by date?”

Larry rolled his eyes. “You wanted a break? Then take this one. Have some tea, get that stick out of your ass for one evening. We can leave if it goes to shit, don’t worry about it, but just try to relax and have fun, man, alright?”

Todd sighed but nodded. He doubted the experience would be enjoyable, not in one bit, but didn’t bother arguing against it. If Larry decided they were doing something, they would be doing it. He might as well try to follow his advice and enjoy it as much as possible.

Hopefully, it would not go to shit as most of their other get-togethers did.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The afternoon was rather enlightening, to say the least. Todd observed the world move around him, slowly sipping on his wonderful tea. His phone remained forgotten in his pocket, turned off so he could get some peace and quiet. And, he would admit in wonderment, it did work out.

Customers slowly trickled in and out around him, speaking warmly to Sal behind the counter, some even introducing themselves to Todd.

During even slower moments, he got to see Larry and Sal interact. Larry sprawled lazily on the bartop, watching his husband work, flirting with the man whenever he got the chance. Todd spent a good hour waiting for them to get kicked out. Sal did not seem like a person who tolerated being distracted by anyone or just liked people in general. However, no matter how much Larry talked or joked, nothing happened. 

Sal patiently listened to Larry rumble, seldom offering a comment but always nodding as if to show he was listening. Suddenly his previous happiness to just talk made all the more sense. If he was encouraged as much as Todd suspected, it was no wonder his friend was only happy to fill the silence with talking.

After Larry finished his drink, only then did Sal order him behind the counter. At Larry’s playfully offended look, he explained equally gruffly.

“My staff needs a break,” Sal offered as an explanation. “You can chat my ear off well enough here. Megan, Mark, you may take your lunch now.”

Both teens smiled at the man and disappeared at the back, Megan giggling quietly at Larry’s huff.

“So you’re using me as free labour?” he asked, leaning against Sal, one hand on his shoulder. “And here I thought you loved me.”

Sal snorted at the remark. “There must be some use of you,” he returned dryly. “Now start on those kettles. I will need them in the evening.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Although it might not have looked so, both worked well together. They easily moved in the cramped space behind the counter, Larry whistling some tunes to fill the comfortable silence. Whenever he wanted to say something, the punk would shift to Sal’s right, staying just far enough not to bother him but close enough to talk quietly if they wished. Several times Todd saw Sal roll his eyes, but never interrupted. He would tilt his head slightly and appear to be listening even when Larry forgot himself and managed to tell the same joke for the second time that day, silencing him only to take customers’ orders.

So different were they, so unusually did they look when put side by side. Nevertheless, they made it work somehow. If one needed to define what ‘soulmates’ meant, Todd was sure, they would need to put a photo of Sal and Larry. Everything else compared to them would feel shallow and mendacious.

Watching them felt intrusive. Like Todd was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to, listening to silent conversations meant just for two people before him. Every now and then he would rub his wrist subconsciously, trying to warm it despite knowing it was always cold.

Envy bit something deep within him. Todd glanced away, focusing back on his tea and the other customers, pushing it as far as he could. Still, his eyes kept returning to the two. Something within him yearned for the connection they share, for the easy understanding. Deep down, Todd understood that they, too, must have their moments and disagreements, that things could not be as flawless as they seemed. 

And yet, a treacherous thought kept reminding him that his own relationship didn’t look so even at the best of times.

In the end, Sal allowed them to stay until early evening before kicking both out. He waited until they finished their second teapot, honestly, one of the best sea buckthorn teas Todd had ever tried, before ordering them both to get out. Surprisingly Larry only laughed at the gruff order, promising to see the other back home and keep him a plate if clean-up took long.

They left the shop and lazily headed back to the house. Instead of going to the path they had taken before, Larry led him in a different direction, picking a route through one of the parks.

“It’s a shortcut,” Larry explained, still grinning happily. “We might get eaten by bugs, but it’s too nice this time of day to pass.”

The supposed ‘shortcut’ turned out to be a side road in the middle of the woods. Tall grass surrounded it on both sides, clinging to the broken asphalt, seemingly trying to swallow it whole. At the entrance, Larry broke off a tree branch and was then happily hitting every nettle bush he could get to, breaking thick stems and scattering the seeds everywhere as he cleared a path for them. Clouds of midges and mosquitoes danced in the light. To be entirely honest, Todd half expected they would be walking in complete darkness, but no. Antique-looking lanterns lit their way; the low-hanging sun streamed through the thick forest. For all its worth, the walk was actually surprisingly pleasant. Unusual, but pleasant.

The path widened slightly, and Todd could finally catch up with Larry. The nettle thinned considerably, sliding into the darkness. With nothing else to do, they decided to pass the time talking.

“So,” Todd asked some time later, “Sal. How did you two meet?”

“On accident,” Larry replied, lighting up. “I was visiting for work here and decided to hit one of the local bars in the evening. The place’s a great dump, seriously, and I’ve just about thought about leaving when one bastard tried to pick a fight.”

“Was that Sal?”

“Nope. Just some prick who decided I was invading their town and decided to do something about it.” Larry cackled. “Got him good in the face, knocked him out in two blows. It would’ve been fine and dandy, but then the bouncers got mad.”

“I wonder why,” Todd remarked dryly.

“So I ended up thrown out,” Larry continued, ignoring him. “Literally thrown out, dude. Stumbled right into Sal as the poor sod was passing by. Laughed his ass off when I told him what happened and offered some tea as thanks for doing the community a service.”

Todd arched his eyebrow. “Since when does kicking shit out of someone count as community service?”

“Turns out the bastard has been making everyone else miserable. The only reason it wasn’t anyone else that night was because of me.”

“Huh. Never thought a town like this would have such issues. It seems too… rustic for all of this shit.”

“Some people get bored and pick the wrong way to pass the time.” Larry shrugged. “Anyway, met the man by accident and decided to stick around anyway. Still trying to see when his patience runs out, but it seems to be endless.”

Todd snorted despite himself. “Sounds about right for you.” He hesitated before asking quietly, “Did he wear the mask back then?” 

“Yeah,” Larry confirmed quietly, his smile fading a little. “Though it’s not a mask, it’s a prosthetic. There was this accident when Sal was a kid, horrifying shit, really. Lost some bits, kept his sparkling personality.”

Larry glanced at Todd, hesitating briefly. He could practically see cogs turn in Larry’s head, likely picking up the best way to bring up whatever it was that needed saying.

“Just go for it,” Todd asked, nudging him. “I’ve seen you hungover more times than I wanted to, there’s literally nothing that can scare me off.”

“Alright. Just forgot to mention a few things before. Sal has night terrors and insomnia, so if you suddenly hear someone walking around at night, don’t panic. He usually sticks to our room after a nightmare and downstairs when he can’t sleep, but just in case.”

Todd frowned “What if we cross paths? Shouldn’t I —”

“No,” Larry cut him off. “We’ve got it down. I keep an eye on him on bad nights, other times he handles everything on his own. Unless someone asks, you have no hearing or sight at night. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious, man, so just don’t.”

Todd nodded slowly, carefully filing the warning away. Before he could ask anything else on the topic, however, a figure appeared in the distance.

A woman with a dog passed them. While Larry and she exchanged pleasantries, discussing something about growing roses, the dog sniffed around Todd curiously. It was a tiny teacup yorkie, a cute little thing that jumped around him, barking playfully up at him, refusing to leave even when her owner called her.

“You’re charming a lot of people tonight,” Larry joked brightly. “Keep it up, and you will fit right in with this town.”

Todd snorted at the comment. He hadn’t charmed anyone in his life, at least not intentionally, and almost every time people were actually seeking something from him rather than genuinely liking his charming personality.

Before he could retort something, though, Larry changed the topic.

“Speaking of which,” he began, giving Todd a thoughtful look. “Are you planning on telling me why exactly you chose our bumfuck nowhere as your vacation sight?”

Everything inside him tensed at the question.

“I wanted a change of scenery,” Todd replied, willing his voice to remain light and even.

“And abandoning civilisation was the only way to do that? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you, man, my mom’s overjoyed, and I’m sure Sal’s happy to meet you too.”

Todd snorted. “That’s unlikely.”

“But,” Larry continued like nothing happened, “don’t try to pretend that’s all of it. Don’t insult me, man, I am more observant than that.”

Almost too observant. For all his aloof look, out of them three, Larry was usually the first one to pick up changes and, coincidentally, the first one to ask about them. And on the rare occasions he didn’t, Ash usually intervened and enlisted him to help. Chances were, both had long realised what was happening; likely the invitation had been a ploy to get him to talk. Which, judging by the look Larry was giving him, might be closer to the truth than he would like it to be.

Todd sighed tiredly. It had been naïve to think he could outsmart them both, yet, for some reason, he had.

“Peter and I are having a rough patch,” he offered at last. “And I did want to see you and your new husband. I’ve been feeling bad ever since I declined your last invitation here.”

“You really shouldn’t have,” Larry offered. “It’s not like you can drop everything, unlike Ash and me, you actually have a boss who gives a shit. You made it here now, that is what matters most.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Don’t mention it,” Larry waved him off. “And don’t think I’ll drop one subject just because you’ve gotten better at dodging questions in the last few years. Now, if you don’t want to talk about it yet, I will get off your case but we will be discussing it later.”

“I’d rather not,” Todd tried.

“Not yet then,” Larry barrelled on. He threw away the branch and wrapped his now free arm around Todd’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, man, we’ll find something to distract you with.”

Todd rolled his eyes, relaxing into the touch. The silence that settled between them was cordial, comforting even. They did not bring the topic again nor bothered to fill it in, simply enjoying the darkness and nature around them.

A little in the distance, the forest finally parted, revealing familiar houses.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Time passed slowly. It gently washed around him, filled with mundane tasks and chores, hardly requiring any work. Some would find it tedious, mind-numbing at times. Todd, too, had been sceptical, but soon changed his mind. It was a pleasant contrast to his usual work days, and though one could hardly call it a vacation, he soon found himself enjoying it.

Although the house was well-maintained, there was still a lot to do around it. Todd would have breakfast with others and then join Lisa in the gardens. The Summer was just reaching its peak, bringing with it various berries and fruits, first vegetables that needed gathering. How Lisa managed all on her own was a mystery. Todd remembered that she had managed an apartment building all on her own, with occasional bouts of helpfulness from them, though the strength was still startling. She smiled and happily walked him through the routines, gently guiding his hands.

“Like humans, plants like attention,” she often told him, cooing at one fruit bush or another. “Treat them well, and they will repay in kind.”

There had to be some truth in those words. Every day, if the weather was good, they harvested a lot, regularly bringing full baskets inside. Then he would help Lisa sort them. It was an oddly meditative task, one that masterfully tiptoed between stimulative and dreadfully boring. Some went to Sal’s tea-house to be used as ingredients, and some they placed in the fridge to eat later. The rest, however, Lisa preserved, turning them into jams and kompot, brewing until she was sure they would last through the winter.

Occasionally, they ventured into the forest. He had been cautious about it at first. After all, they were not some harmless park or square but wild woods with countless animals inhabiting them. Unsurprisingly, Lisa simply rolled over his concerns, assuring that nothing would happen. Larry would roll his eyes and tag along. To help, he would say, but Todd knew it was to keep an eye on things.

Foraging, too, was a pleasant discovery. There was something oddly entertaining about walking through the thick undergrowth, looking for tiny wild strawberries in tall grass and seemingly endless bushes of raspberries. Where Larry joked about being a free slave, Todd always felt like a scout. Like he was looking for answers, discovering mysteries along the half-kept pathways and large clearings. On one particularly memorable occasion, they stumbled upon a clearing with nettle so high it towered not only above Todd but even Larry.

By the time they stumbled out of the forest, arms full of mushrooms and berries, cowered in mosquito bites and rashes from nettle, Todd felt rejuvenated. Larry, on the other hand, continued grumbling

“I will never understand why you like it here so much,” he told Lisa, trying in vain to scratch the unbearable itch. “It’s like a portal to hell in there. Living and breathing portal.”

Lisa shook her head at his antics and ran her fingers through his hair, combing out a broken branch that had somehow managed to get stuck in it.

“Too many complaints for someone who used to scout abandoned buildings, Lar-bear,” she soothed, parting his shoulders. “It’s past time you put your skills to use. Todd likes it, so must you.”

To say Larry used those skills would be an understatement. Todd quickly found out one day when Lisa went to one of her friends, and Larry managed to get to him first. He had barged into Todd’s room, grinning brightly, and announced they would be cleaning the roofs. 

What followed was three days of climbing and cleaning. It felt so eerily similar to their adventures as children, Todd couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. That wasn’t the first time he felt it and, as it turned out, not the last.

Larry was indeed doing most of the repairs. He would often ask Todd to tag along, and then both of them would try to figure whatever it was out. Fixing the front gate had been a pleasant challenge. They had spent several days dancing around it, toying with different solutions, building contraptions to make it work properly. The old thing stubbornly refused. It kept getting stuck regardless of their efforts, only groaning loudly whenever one of them did manage to pry it open.

Other times, he would ask Sal for assistance. At the end of the first week, Todd had become a witness to what looked like a ritual. In reality, it was Larry climbing all over the house to clean the windows, bickering and cursing his way through it as Sal held the ladder he was using and Lisa organised all of them.

Sal wasn’t an exception to the chores. Still cold and distant, quietly observant whenever Todd encountered him, the man always helped. He worked alongside Lisa whenever Larry took Todd, and even found a few of his own tasks around the place. 

Todd had been startled out of his mind when he walked on Sal patiently sewing loops onto a newly bought set of towels. Somehow it was still odd to witness someone like him working on such a gentler task. Todd had half expected to get yelled at, perhaps to be asked to take over the task or even reminded he needed to ‘earn his keep’ around the place. Nothing came, however. Sal had only glanced at him through his mask, gaze sharp and studying, before asking him to bring more thread. That had to have been the most bizarre interaction he had had all week there.

In the evening, all of them gathered in the living room. They seldom did anything together as a group; more often than not, all of them did their own little thing. Sal often played with Gizmo, his cat or quietly played guitar. Larry often sketched while his mother read through their impressive library.

Todd often picked up a book as well. But sometimes, when it got late and the longing became unbearable, he would reach for his phone, checking it. 

He often told himself not to expect much. Knowing Peter, it would have been the best option, the most logical one. His boyfriend never reached out first, not unless he wanted something, always expecting Todd to make the first steps. Yet each time the ginger reached, hope touched his heart.

Perhaps that evening would be the one, he kept thinking. And always it came crushing down under the silence. Peter didn’t bother contacting him or even asking where Todd was.

Todd would put away his phone, disappointed less in Peter and more in himself. Something must be showing on his face at that moment, because he would always find Larry subtly glancing at him, checking silently. He never asked, keeping his promises. Todd was grateful for it all, knowing he was not ready to face it just yet.

Such understanding was nice if new. Todd would have thought someone replaced Larry somewhere along the way if he hadn’t overheard a quiet argument between Larry and Sal one evening.

It was late, long past sunset. Lisa had bid them good night and disappeared into her rooms, likely preparing for bed. Todd was also on his way when he remembered he had forgotten his laptop downstairs. One of his colleagues had contacted him earlier that evening, apologising profusely for bothering and asking to help with a few things on the project. Todd had gladly agreed, finding himself actually enjoying the task for once.

He walked down the stairs when the sounds of talking stopped him. Quietly, making sure not to make a sound, Todd hid in one of the nooks, listening carefully.

“I can’t bear seeing him like this,” Larry said, his voice coming muffled through the thick door. “And Ash has been picking my brain about getting him to talk. How can I when he looks like something death drags in and has just started to get better?”

A hum echoed through the room. 

“Do you think so?” Larry asked, though Todd hadn’t heard the question. “Fuck, but there’s clearly something going on, and don’t try to convince me I’m seeing something that’s not here. He isn’t well, and I can’t do shit until he talks.”

Larry growled under his breath, clearly trying to muffle the sound. Quiet footsteps moved across the room, the couch creaked slightly as Sal must have sat down by Larry’s side.

“It is his choice to make,” Sal’s voice replied firmly. “Unless he asks you specifically, you cannot intervene.”

“I fucking know it, okay?” Larry returns, annoyed. “But you don’t know him like I do. Whoever this is, it’s not Todd. Todd I know doesn’t abandon shit, he gets through it, sometimes with us cheering him on, and doesn’t leave it alone until it’s all figured out. This must be a doppelganger.”

Todd’s breath caught in his throat. He had noticed, of course, the looks Larry often sent him, Lisa’s attempts to fatten him up during the meals. All had been expertly disguised, never seeming odd due to the countless times it had happened before. How could he have missed it?

“It’s his coping mechanism,” Sal said, breaking Todd out of his thoughts. “Avoidance, focusing on something else. You and I have done it too. Did you like me getting you out of the loop?”

“You dumped cold water over me because I refused to leave my painting,” Larry reminded dryly. “And then got me locked out of the room until a full week passed.”

“Don’t pretend it didn’t help.

 “But I’m not planning on doing that to him,” Larry went on, ignoring the remark. “Just some light interrogation, practically harmless.”

There was a dull thud, and Larry’s indignant ‘ow’ sound.

“You’re going to end up without information and your friend,” Sal pointed out. “At least this way you can keep an eye on him, be there if needed. The last thing you need or want is to push him away, so get a grip. He will come to you when he needs it.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” Larry challenged, half whispering, half hissing. “What happens then?”

“You keep being there just in case.” A pause. “Though you might have a point.”

“Just one?”

“Be grateful I’m agreeing with you at all,” Sal returned. Todd could swear he had heard amusement in that tone, but the thought was so bizarre, he pushed it away. “Keep observing for the time being. Things change, and you can corner him. Though I still insist we wait until he comes first, otherwise we might scare him off.”

Larry snorted. “He’s not a startled cat, you know?”

“I will once he starts looking like it. Now let’s go to bed, you’re helping me with the delivery tomorrow.”

That seemed to have done the trick. Larry sighed but allowed the change of topic, curiously asking for more information, drilling Sal on new recipes he might be trying. Todd listened to them talk for a while longer before creeping back upstairs, his own mind riddled with thought.

Shame, anxiety, tiredness - all of it mixed deep within him, making any choice much harder than it really should have been. He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, indecisive, for several hours, picking apart every reason, every possible scenario that might take place. Talking with Larry had always helped. In the past, when things got too much, he could always find understanding with his friend, even if it sometimes took a while to reach it. But he wasn’t a child anymore, and the issue was more than fearing he wouldn’t pass the test.

Unbeknownst to himself, Todd fell asleep without making a decision.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

In the end, it took three more days before blowing up spectacularly.

Todd was accompanying Lisa outside on the veranda, while Larry worked on the fence. The skies were still dark and gloomy, cowered in thick clouds. Thankfully, there was no more rain. There had been more than enough the night before, and Todd doubted he would ever experience a storm of such magnitude ever again, certainly not back in the city.

It had been raining on and off for the last few days. The rain always came unexpectedly, falling onto the little town furiously, throwing water and even hail at them a couple of times, before dissipating just as unexpectedly. That night had begun like any other with sudden darkness and clouds, menacing rumbling of the thunder somewhere in the distance. They had been having dinner when something suddenly creaked quietly, and Sal had to massage his jaw. As Larry would explain later, his jaw always got stiff before thunderstorms. Todd was not one for believing superstitions; they seemed absurd for anyone with even an ounce of sense, but he quickly had to stand corrected. Shortly after it had begun raining, the rest of the storm had rolled in.

The wind had been relentless. It ran through the forest, ruffling trees, bending them seemingly in every direction, tearing small branches before throwing them viciously at their windows. Rain poured like none other. Lisa had been terrified for her gardens, quietly lamenting the end of her crops; Larry tried calming her down, promising three more gardens if anything happened to them. Todd had been more worried about them ending up buried under the debris. Sal had appeared the most collected, but one could easily tell the man, too, had been tense, observing the elements with a sharp gaze while his hands clutched the edge of the table so hard it was a miracle it hadn’t broken. Just as they had thought the worst had passed, one of the fir trees had broken in half, falling down right on the fence.

As soon as the night had passed, they poured out to survey the damage. Thankfully, the fir had been the worst of it - not counting countless tiny branches, needles and cones littering the lawn. The gardens had survived the night, though some plants were worse for wear. 

Leaving Lisa to fuss over them, the rest of them deal with the tree. Which, Todd would say without a shade of doubt, was the worst. The thing had not only been massive but absolutely rotten inside, and only the skies knew how it had managed to stand in that forest that long without toppling over any sooner. Sal had already left for his late shift, having helped them drag the tree away. That had been an experience all of its own, and Todd would lie to say he enjoyed it. Bickering with Larry about the mechanics had been fun. Dragging the thing was not something he would like to experience ever again.

A little later, Larry joined them. Sweaty and covered in grime, he fell on the bench by Todd’s side, entirely ignoring either his indignant huff or Lisa’s disapproving shake of her head.

“Man,” he complained, sighing. “As much as I love this house, this damn forest will be the death of me one day.”

“Do you often lose trees to storms?” Todd asked, not glancing away from his laptop.

“If I were given a nickel every time some damn tree tried taking out our fence, I’d have two,” Larry deadpanned. “Which isn’t much, not when compared to the costs of repairing it, but still two too fucking many.”

“Language,” Lisa admonished, more automatically, Todd thought, than actually trying to reprimand him. She must have known it would be useless by that point.

“What,” he protested, “it’s appropriate for the situation! Three hours, mom, three hours have been lost to that thing.”

Lisa only rolled her eyes at his antics. “Regardless, I raised you better than that, Lar-bear. Now, have you finished with the fence?”

“Did the best job on this side of the river,” he reported, saluting playfully. “What about your garden, though? Anything I need to do so they won’t die on us tomorrow?”

“I will write you a list. They seem to be doing well, but I’d like you to have a look anyway. Just in case something has broken and I haven’t noticed it just yet.”

“Will do, m’am. Any news from your friends?”

They continued talking quietly around him. Lisa spoke about their neighbours, telling of other trees that had fallen, the flowers that had gotten torn out of their beds and other casualties. Todd barely listened to the conversation, focused more on his own task. He would have spent the rest of the evening in the same fashion had it not been for one notification.

It arrived entirely unexpectedly. He had been working on a particularly stubborn test that their application kept failing and had just figured it out, when a message appeared at the edge of the screen with a quiet ‘pop.’ Todd had honestly just glanced at it, promising to have a look later. Unlikely it was anything important, it was too late for his team, not to mention a Friday, and he had just talked with Ash a few hours back.

He glanced at it, feeling everything freeze. The message disappeared too quickly to tell what it held inside, but he saw to whom it belonged.

Larry peeked over his shoulder, but Todd barely noticed him. Feeling everything inside him tense, he debated what to do. It had been desperation that had pushed him last evening to write anything. To be entirely honest, he hadn’t hoped for a reply, definitely one so soon by Peter’s standard, and honestly wasn’t sure what to do with it. He wanted and didn’t want to know what was inside at the same time. Pete never offered a kind word, hadn’t even asked where Todd had gone or if he was alive and well. Chances that there was anything good, much less an apology, were nonexistent.

 With a trembling hand, he moved the mouse and opened the messenger. The chat appeared on his screen; Todd scrolled down, quickly hiding the last exchanges before pulling up the newer ones.

His heart dropped at the text. Larry behind him cursed colourfully, hitting the table.

“What the hell is that?!” he demanded.

“Peter has reached out,” Todd replied impassively, as if there were no harsh words before him, no coldness he could feel right through the screen.

“I’ve seen that,” Larry brushed him off. “I’m asking who the fuck he is to speak with you like that? Doesn’t he know some basic decency?”

Todd didn’t know what to reply. How could he explain to his friend that it was the norm? That more often than not Peter would turn to pettily insulting him and disrespecting him after their fights, that Todd would always be the one to make the first move.

“It’s okay,” he still tried, feeling older than ever before. “He doesn’t mean it half the time.”

“And the other half he does?” Larry asked. “I’ve had enough. Mother, please make us some tea,” he said to Lisa, somehow managing to restrain himself. Then turned to Todd and added, “I’ve waited long enough. Now you will tell me everything, and we will figure out what the hell to do. Alright?”

His first impulse was to refuse. After all, these were his personal matters that he had been handling for years. What was another fight? There had been so many, Todd might as well consider himself an expert.

Then he remembered. He remembered the nights he spent at work just so he didn’t have to return home to hostility and misunderstanding. Ash’s worried voice the last time they talked, her probing and light questioning, a quiet ‘I’m here if you need it,’ that Todd had ignored. And he remembered the conversation he had overheard. Unknowingly, he had been driving all others away, had missed Larry’s wedding, worried them both while struggling helplessly to seem fine.

He had gone on for so long, Todd doubted he remembered the last time they had talked peacefully, without needing to find out who was right.

Tiredness, bone-deep and cold tiredness, washed over him. Todd massaged his temples helplessly and closed the laptop.

“Alright,” he agreed, defeated. “Alright, Larry.”

Larry didn’t reply, instead setting off to act. Todd watched him, barely registering that he moved around. Lisa brought out two mugs of warm tea, quietly telling them she would be inside. Larry picked up a couple of chairs and an ashtray, silently gestured for Todd to pick up the trays with the drinks and follow him.

Before long, Todd found himself away from the veranda, seated on a chair and with a mug in his hands. Larry sat in front of him, a cigarette lit, the ashtray placed on a small stool that Todd couldn’t recall them bringing.

“Tell me,” Larry said, lighting the cigarette. “Everything.”

And he did. Hesitantly, at first, adding a few details and still insisting that, despite how it might have looked, things were okay and Todd did not mind. Peter wasn’t a bad person, far from it, simply a little hot-headed, perhaps quick to anger whenever things got really emotional. It was nothing Todd had not seen before, and it shouldn’t have mattered because he had been choosing to remain there so long. Really, Todd kept insisting, even in the privacy of his own mind, that he should have long gotten used to it.

Larry didn’t judge or get angry. He simply kept asking, pulling answers out of Todd, asking specific questions that he knew would make Todd think. Both had known each other for too long not to notice the patterns, the tactics that had been used whenever one of them was too stubborn to really look at things. Honed over the years, those questions had done their job.

Slowly Todd cracked. He began including details, less trying to explain why Peter’s cold ‘Come home when you’re done having your tantrum’ was expected, and more trying to explain himself. Todd had pushed too far. Todd had been too callous, too analytical when approaching their issues and not nearly as sympathetic as he could have been. It was he who had been at fault. Peter had done his best to mitigate and, perhaps, could have done more, but Todd was the main issue. Perhaps not entirely, he could recognise that much, but for the most part.

It appeared to be working, on himself, on Larry. Just as Todd thought he could finish talking, Larry broke the fragile peace. He took a lazy drag from his cigarette and simply resumed what had been said so far. 

“So what,” Larry asked, likely not knowing the turmoil he had stirred in Todd’s soul, “he ‘did all he could’ and you’ve forgiven him, but he can’t do the same in return?”

That thought wasn’t anything new. He himself had thought it numerous times in his dark-lit office, wondering what he had done wrong yet again. But hearing it from someone so close had done the trick. The dam cracked one last time and broke. Todd wouldn’t be able to explain it even years afterwards. Just all of a sudden, it broke.

He talked. Talked about feeling cold and isolated in his own house, how he had been picking up more and more shifts at his work until his coworkers began joking he should move to the work if he loved it so much and that those jokes were still much more than Peter had done to mitigate their conflicts. Todd described feeling more at peace at their place while thinking Sal despised him and dreading the end of the week because it would mean having to return and face Peter yet again. All their arguments suddenly seemed both stupid and not. Peter’s words were now leaving a dull ache in his heart that Todd had tried so stubbornly to ignore. Years of bottled emotions poured out freely, finally having nothing to stop them. They poured and poured, washing out of him in a wild stream and leaving behind emptiness he didn’t know what to deal with.

By the time he was done, there was nothing else left. His tea had gone cold in the mug; his voice, previously firm, had gone hoarse from talking so much. Todd took a sip of the tea, winced at the taste, and dropped his head. He had said all he could on the matter. Now it was Larry’s turn.

His heartbeat picked up in anticipation. Though Todd didn’t look like it, everything in him tensed, waiting for how his friend would react. There had been a lot, much more than he had likely expected when asking Todd those questions. He half expected Larry to side with Peter and call it a petty tantrum, despite knowing Larry would never do that.

Larry didn’t reply immediately. He slowly let out a smoke ring, thoughtfully watching as it rose to the skies and gradually dissipated into nothingness. He was frowning, eyebrows brought together, lost in deep thought. Looking at him, one would hardly manage to accuse him of being chaotic and careless at times.

Todd couldn’t honestly remember the last time he had seen his friend look so serious, so collected. Deep down, he knew Larry remained the same laid-back and occasionally lazy teen from his childhood, whose only interests were drawing, Sanity’s Fall and making sure his mother remained protected and happy. And if he were honest, there was less and less of that kid in the man before him. Something that, against all odds, did not feel like a bad thing.

“Well,” Larry began after a long moment of silence, “your situation sucks ass. Really, really sucks, man, I’m sorry.”

Todd sighed, dropping his gaze to the cup in his hands.

“I already knew that without having you ask,” he said tiredly. 

A headache began forming somewhere at the back of his head, nagging, convincing him to cut the conversation short and just go home. Todd pushed it away for the time being. Something told him it was too early to call it quits and that it would be best for everyone if he remained. Remembering Larry’s determination, he didn’t doubt his instincts one bit.

“I just don’t understand it,” Todd went on. “It seems like nothing I do, no solution I offer is good enough, even if they are objectively better. He seems to disagree with me just on principle.”

“Have you tried asking how he is? Maybe there is something you are unaware of?”

“He would never cheat,” Todd said defensively.

“Never claimed he would,” Larry returned swiftly. He glanced at Todd. “There might be something deeper going on. Maybe he doesn’t want to worry you or some shit, so he keeps hiding it.”

“And how am I supposed to learn about it if he is refusing to tell me?”

“Sit him down, tell you how worried you have been.” Larry shook the ash from his cigarette into the tray. “If he doesn’t tell you then and refuses to look at the options, there isn’t really much you can do about it, is there? Maybe –”

“No.”

“Dude, if he refuses to listen to you –”

“Larry, no.”

“You haven’t even finished –”

“I said no,” Todd pressed firmly. “I will not consider leaving him just because we have been having disagreements.”

“You have been constantly arguing,” Larry corrected. “And he has been behaving unpredictably. And you have been spending more time at work, with us and Ash, rather than at your own home. For someone so pragmatic, your logic is hella flawed.”

“Each couple has its disagreements,” he tried to explain. Words honestly fell flat between them, sounding almost as if he was trying to convince himself rather than Larry. “I suppose we simply have it a little worse than an average couple would, which isn’t a reason to break things off.”

“I think they are when you are happier at someone else’s place than your own.”

Todd’s hands tightened around his mug.

“Look,” he began slowly, “I realise you are worried and appreciate it greatly, but that is my decision. Just because you and Sal manage without ever arguing over something does not mean my disagreements with Peter are anything to worry about.”

He expected any reaction to that statement. A part of him, a small cowardly part, hoped Larry would simply agree with his reasoning and change the subject, maybe even offer a solution that didn’t include severing five years’ worth of relationship. Maybe he could have yelled at Todd, tried to prove his point.

Instead, Larry chuckled. Deeply, brightly, as if Todd were a child who had asked whether cows could fly.

Todd felt the tips of his ears grow hot in embarrassment, but refused to budge, to ask for an explanation. So he didn’t. He patiently waited as Larry’s laugh slowly quietened, fading into a gentle, if a little condescending smile and then into deep thoughtfulness. His fingers continued to clutch the mug, holding it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

Finally, Larry began talking.

“We argue,” he said simply, looking somewhere in the distance. “Not as much as we used to after moving in together, but we definitely have our fair share of disagreements. Sometimes over some dumb shit. Sometimes over something more important to us. It’s natural. Doubt any relationship can be so smooth that there isn’t a single argument or disagreement. They just learn to work it all out.”

Larry shook his head slightly, his hair flying everywhere. He took another drag, released another cloud of smoke, not bothering to make it into a ring. His gaze was distant, clouded. Felt like he was anywhere else but in the small garden with Todd. 

“Sal and I also argue,” Larry went on. “But neither of us ever stays mad. We remain in the same house, cool off and try to have a calmer discussion a while later.”

“Does it work?”

“For the most part. If it doesn’t, you just repeat it until you find better words for it or a solution. But I never leave. You know why?”

Todd shook his head mutely. Larry nodded but didn’t continue speaking, not at first. For a few minutes he just kept looking at nothing, seemingly debating if the story was worth bringing up.

“I left once,” Larry explained at last. “It was years ago, just after we moved here. Sal inherited Addison’s tea shop and wanted to pull the rest of our savings and renovate it into something. It was falling apart, the old man didn’t bother taking care of his shit, and people avoided it like the plague. Pretty sure they thought he was doing some illegal shit. I was against it, thought it stupid and said so to Sal’s face.

“We’ve been fighting for a month by that point. Sal wasn’t feeling too good back then, but kept working, insisting he could make it work. One night, I grew fed up with this shit and just left. Thought I’d spend time with my mom at her place and cool off, and we’ll continue it later. I asked him to call me if anything happened, promised to come back and left.”

“What happened?” Todd asked quietly.

“Nothing for the first two nights,” Larry replied quietly. “On the third, I received a call from one of the hospitals here. Told me Sal collapsed in our home at some point, the neighbour found him when she came for some salt and called an ambulance. Turned out the solution he was using to care for his scars was out of date and didn’t work for shit. Not only did he get an allergic reaction, but his scars got infected.”

Larry sighed. “He almost died that night. Had it not been for old Rosenberg, he would have died.”

Uncomfortable, heavy silence settled between them. It lay as a terrible weight on Todd’s shoulders, pushing him down, seemingly trying to crush; a chill went down his spine. Just thinking that someone like Sal, their good friend and almost a brother, could have died was unbearable. Imagining hearing about it was almost agonising.

“He spent almost a month in that hospital,” Larry continued. “Several times the medics weren’t sure if he would make it. The infection ran deep, turned into sepsis halfway through.”

“I’m sorry,” Todd offered, unsure of what else to say.

“It’s over now,” Larry replied, seemingly to himself. “So I promised him and myself that never again will I leave. We’ll discuss, maybe take a time out or some shit, and find a solution but never leave the house. When he woke up, Sal made the same promise to me.”

Larry took the last drag of his cigarette, put it out harshly against the glass and left the nub lying in the glass tray.

“There are things much more terrifying than deciding whether to go on a vacation or not,” he finished. “And if he refuses to cooperate on something like this or even listen to you, his love isn’t worth shit.”

Todd sighed. Logically, he understood the point his friend was trying to make and could even feel their weight against them. But it wasn’t so simple. Not in his case.

“I understand what you’re trying to say,” he tried one last time. “You and Sal are soulmates, Peter and I aren’t.”

“The hell does it have to do with anything?”

“It eases things,” Todd explained. “Not to say what you two have gone through does not matter, that is not at all what I am trying to say. Just, how objective can you be when you know magic or whatever will sort it all out in the end?”

“Just because we’re soulmates, doesn’t mean it affects our relationship. We still have to work for it, fight for it.” Larry gave him a side look. “It’s not some cure-all or fix-all. You still gotta put in the effort.”

Todd frowned. “Then what is the point, to begin with?”

“The hell I know.” Larry shrugged. “I like to think it’s because the universe wants us to have a chance. That if you’re willing to work for it, fight for it, then you might just have something good waiting for you out there.”

“But it’s no guarantee,” Todd pointed out.

“Of course not. Nothing in this life is, so why would this one thing be?”

He didn’t reply, falling quiet. Larry didn’t press for it either, simply reaching inside one of this coat’s pockets, fished out another cigarette and lit it up with a quiet ‘click’ of a lighter.

“Whatever decision you make, we’ll be there,” was the last thing Larry said on the topic that day. “But you have to promise to consider other options.”

Todd nodded mutely, eyes still focused firmly on the mug in his hands. He took a sip. The tea had long gotten cold and bitter, leaving an unpleasant aftertaste on his tongue, but he barely felt it, too lost to notice much else. 

They sat there for a while longer, silent, thoughtful until the sun slowly began to set. Sal came out of the house to check on them, ushering inside when he realised how cold both had gotten.

“Fools,” Sal muttered, all but pushing them inside. “Get your asses inside before I drag you by the scruffs of your necks like a pair of dumb cats you are; don’t think I won’t do it, I can and I will. Larry, I’m lighting up the fireplace, and no, I refuse to hear anything on it.”

Larry raised his hands in surrender, goofing around and further adding fuel to fire.

“Whatever you say, my king,” he teased. Then he winced slightly and rubbed his hands together, adding almost sheepishly, “But we’ll need a blanket, I can barely feel my fingers and I doubt Todd is more cold proof than I am.”

They were ushered to the living room and onto the ridiculously comfortable armchairs, Sal hearing none of their arguments against it even when Todd tried to speak up. He lit the fireplace with practiced ease, ordered them not to move an inch if they valued their life, and disappeared into another room.

“And this happens every single time,” Larry told him in a loud whisper, not even bothering to hide.

That comment earned him a rolled blanket to his smug face. He caught it with ease, placing it in front of himself and leaning on it, looking at returning Sal with a lopsided grin. Todd might have imagined it, but, it felt, that Sal was too, smiling behind his prosthetic even while cursing his soulmate out.

As he observed, Todd couldn’t help his own small, unsure and quite sad smile at the picture. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease.

In his pocket, his phone remained cold and stoically quiet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Todd went downstairs, giving up on getting any sleep that night. He had genuinely tried, staring at the ceiling for many hours before finally calling it quits. It seemed the confession had shaken him much more than expected, draining him emotionally but definitely not mentally. 

Sometimes he hated his mind for not letting things go. Any other time it helped brilliantly, offering innovative solutions that always seemed to address whatever situation Todd had been dealing with at the moment. Analytical tasks it had long mastered. His relationship with Peter, on the other hand, was another matter altogether. It kept returning to that evening in the gardens, running the conversation over and over for more clues and then running off with them. Regardless of reasoning, it refused to calm down, searching for the perfect solution. They had discussed the issue, true. But hadn’t really come up with any plan, Todd had done his best not to dwell on that if he were honest, and it was driving him crazy. 

Moving on like he had always done was no longer an option. To be fair, Todd doubted he could have done it even if wanted to. Larry’s words, whether intentionally or not, had opened his eyes and he could no longer ignore how one-sided their relationship had been. What did that leave him? Confrontation? Breaking things off? They had been together for five years already. The thought of breaking it all seemed foolish, almost like he would be going against himself if he were to choose it. Like he did not treasure what good they did have, like he hadn’t tried hard enough.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost stepped on Gizmo. The cat was laying on the last step, lazing around in the darkness, confident no one would be there to disturb him. Gizmo batted at Todd’s leg in a warning, almost tripping him in the process, hissing in a warning.

Stumbling, Todd managed to get down without hurting the cat. He rubbed his eyes, crouched before the ruffled beast. The cat’s eyes glowed menacingly in the darkness, watching him warily.

“Sorry, bud,” Todd offered awkwardly, reaching to scratch the cat behind its ears. Gizmo narrowed his eyes in distrust, but surprisingly didn’t move away. “I didn’t notice you. In the dark. Why aren’t you asleep?”

Gizmo huffed, biting his hand playfully. He got to his paws, stretched lazily and moved deeper into the darkness. When Todd hadn’t followed him, Gizmo turned around and gave him such an intense look that it was honestly unnerving. Not for the first time Todd wondered if the cat was actually a human trapped in an animal’s body, but brushed it off. Johnsons were an odd bunch; it was only fitting that they had an equally odd cat.

They made their way to the kitchen only to find Sal there. The man was sitting on the windowsill, looking into the window, a mug in his hands. He didn’t appear to notice them, not even when Gizmo meowed quietly in greetings, continuing to look at something only he knew.

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine. Todd hesitated in the doorway, unsure as to what to do in such a situation. He still remembered Larry’s warning not to get involved, and, to be fair, wasn’t sure his presence would be welcomed. Sal had warmed somewhat towards him, but to say they were friends would be an overstatement.

The cat, on the other hand, didn’t have such an issue. While Todd hesitated, Gizmo headed straight for his owner. He stopped right by Sal’s foot, gently pawed at him to get the man’s attention. Only after Sal turned his head to him did the cat jump, rubbing at his hands in a call to attention. After receiving it, Gizmo meowed quietly and settled at Sal’s feet. Todd couldn’t shake off the feeling that the two were having some sort of conversation he was unaware of.

Finally, Sal turned, noticing him still at the door. Sal didn’t say anything, simply studying Todd for a moment. He debated apologising and leaving to try sleeping once more, but Sal made the decision first. 

The man rose to his feet, gently shooing Gizmo off the windowsill. Todd could have sworn the cat rolled his eyes, but it didn’t argue, simply moving over to one of the chairs at the table.

“Come inside,” Sal told Todd. He moved to the counter, tinkering with some boxes there. “Why’re you still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Todd offered unsurely, moving to the table and picking one of the seats. “I was thinking of getting something to pass the time. Some water, maybe.”

Sal hummed thoughtfully. “Tea would work better,” he decided after a moment. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Todd rubbed the back of his neck, unsure. Such a question genuinely startled, and though he had learned that Sal was no more callous than Larry - at least not on purpose - it felt weird confiding in the man he barely knew. On the other hand, there had to have been a reason Larry had married him. And if his friend had followed through on at least some of the opinions he used to hold about partners, it really should be okay.

Deciding there was nothing more he could possibly lose, Todd sighed.

“I don’t know what to do next,” he confessed quietly. Perhaps if Sal did not hear what he said, it would be like he hadn’t bothered, to begin with. “All of it has been too much.”

“What do you want to have?” Sal asked, bottling water.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve heard me. What do you want to have?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Todd hadn’t really thought about it, focusing more on what could be done than the results each action would bring with itself. Though he doubted that would get them a definite answer either. There were many outcomes, some depending entirely on him and others on what Peter decided he could and would do to work things through, to what degree their efforts would stretch.

“I want to be heard,” he settled on after a while, absentmindedly rubbing his wrist. Sal hummed again but didn’t press, seemingly feeling Todd needed a bit more time. “To be able to return to my home without dreading yet another argument. To be respected like I respect him.”

“So, a decent partnership?” Sal asked.

“Yeah,” Todd agreed. “That sounds nice.”

Comfortable silence fell for a moment. Todd allowed himself to push the doubt and anxiety for the time being, simply observing Sal work. The man moved expertly, never wasting movement, shifting just enough to accomplish whatever he needed, whether it would be putting a kettle on the stove or finding something in a drawer. To his right Gizmo purred quietly; the kettle grumbled in displeasure as the water heated. Old metal boxes clank as Sal worked through them, finding the one he needed. All of it was surprisingly soothing, and for a moment, Todd found himself actually relaxing.

The kettle whistled. Sal took it off the stove without even looking, just peeking it up like it was nothing. His sleeve rode up a little, and Todd could see his soulmark peek from underneath the fabric.

It was different from Larry’s but followed its general design of vines climbing up one’s arm. Instead of forget-me-nots, however, it held different dandelions, from bright orange to flawlessly white and even a couple seeds around Sal’s elbow. It was oddly fitting for a man like him. Todd would never be able to explain why he thought so, he just did.

“Why did you choose Larry?” Todd found himself asking. 

Sal didn’t even stop working. He didn’t tense, didn’t look over his shoulders to check if Todd had lost his mind.

Just when Todd thought to apologise for overstepping, Sal turned his head slightly in acknowledgement.

“He was willing to care,” the man replied, his deep voice a little hoarse and quiet. He turned back to his task, continuing, “No one bothered with me before. Everyone left, always with a reason or an excuse. Not Larry. He saw something and refused to let go. Used to call him a fool for sticking around like a burr.”

Todd snorted. “Sounds about right for him.” At Sal’s long look, he explained, “That’s how we became friends. I used to be bullied back at school. Weird, a geek, a nerd and teachers’ favourite; I was practically asking for it back then. Larry took one look at me and brought me into the fold to him and Ash.”

Sal nodded. “He gets it from his mom. If they decide you’re worth the effort, there’s no getting rid of them.”

He poured the hot water into another, smaller kettle, moved over to the table and placed it on a small coaster. Before long, two glass cups joined, one placed closer to Todd and another at the seat across him.

“It’s a lot like finding a good job,” Sal went on, coming over. He filled both cups, passing one to Todd when he was done and picking the other. “The difference’s that your workday doesn’t end with come evening, so you need to be okay doing it a lot.”

Todd frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You find someplace you like, get treated well and click with the team,” Sal explained, shrugging. “Relationships are the same. Keep looking until something clicks. If you don’t like it, negotiate, move on if the other side’s unwilling, and you need it.”

“I understand that,” Todd said tiredly. “But it feels wrong to leave without trying. I mean, we’ve been together for five years. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“How many of those have you been happy about?”

Todd didn’t reply, looking away. He dropped his gaze to look at the cup, watching the berries float merrily in the tea. It smelled divine, so he took a sip, unwilling to let it go to waste. How Sal managed to remember his preferred blend was beyond him.

His heart clenched at the thought. Peter never remembered that Todd preferred fruit teas, often buying plain green or even forgoing tea entirely and picking only coffee for himself. 

“Sorry, babe, I forgot,” he would always say, hardly sounding remorseful about it. “Just pick it up after work, it’s no big deal.”

Somehow, it seemed less and less like ‘no big deal’ the more Todd thought about it.

“He never remembered,” he murmured more to himself, running his finger against the edge of the mug. “Always said my preferences changed too often for him to keep up with them.”

“Did they?”

“Not at all,” Todd chuckled. “I’ve been in love with buckthorn tea for as long as I can remember myself. But all fruit teas do. He just never thought to remember it, I suppose.”

“Then he was a shit partner.”

“I’m starting to see that. It’s still hard, you know? To think you might not be an issue for once.”

Sal nodded, agreeing silently. “Shit like this takes time. You got used to it, so change is scary even if it’ll be good for you in the long run.” He turned his head, glancing at the window once more. It was pitch-black on the other side with only a dim light peeking from the rows of trees in the distance. A moment passed, another. Sal took a sip of his drink. “It’s not about whether you’re ready to do it or know what to expect once you do, you never will. The question is - are you ready to try anyway?”

Todd turned his head, too, looking onto the same ray of light in the darkness. Sal didn’t press him to talk, he seemed to have forgotten they had been even talking, to begin with.

Nothing else had been said that night. Yet, for once, Todd’s silence was finally enough.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

In the end, Todd had managed to come up with a decent plan that did not feel entirely like he was giving up too early. Larry had been displeased when he heard, offered several biting comments when Todd was explaining his reasoning, but seemed to understand. Although he did insist they come with him.

“No way in hell we’ll allow you to face that dick alone,” Larry replied at Todd’s confusion, huffing indignantly at the mere thought of leaving his friend on his own in such matters. “You might need back-up, someone to help you pack your shit and all that stuff. Besides, it will be nice to see the old shithole again.”

“Yes, but there's no need for you two to go,” Todd tried arguing. “I wouldn’t want to disrupt your lives any more than I already have, moreover, it might take some time to get my affairs in order.”

“I am the back-up,” Larry explained, “and sal is the precaution. Should shit go down, we’ll really need him to get me back in line. I could use a vacation anyway, and Sal has his staff to keep an eye on the shop. You’re stuck with us and the sooner you realise that, the sooner we can go kick some ass.”

Todd glanced at Sal, hoping at least he would see sense, but the man only nodded. He offered no explanation when asked, merely shrugging his shoulders and insisting he didn’t mind at all.

“You’re Larry’s friend,” Sal said simply at Todd’s helpless reasoning. “If he says you need help, you need it.”

On that Todd groaned and dropped the topic. 

If he was entirely honest with himself, Larry was more right than wrong. Despite having found some resolve to figure things out once and for all, Todd was still beyond unsure and would likely call the entire ordeal off before actually doing anything about it. Closing his eyes on the issue was still the outcome his mind preferred even if, for once, his heart argued against it.

Although he still tried, even through Lisa. The woman had listened to his tale with the same understanding Larry had, not once interrupting Todd nor calling him out on his cowardice, speaking only when she needed more information. It was easier, somehow, to talk about it the second time. As if the more he acknowledged the issue for himself, the easier the words came to describe it. He hadn’t bothered defending Peter, not as much as he might have. That had seemed pointless, especially when there was Larry who could easily disprove it all with just one remark. If he felt lighter once he was done, Todd did not mention it aloud.

Unsurprisingly, Lisa only agreed with her son and son-in-law.

“You never face battles alone,” she told him, smiling her gentle smile, but her eyes remained hard, a silent warning not to challenge her. “Family never leaves if it can help it. I am sure your own parents would have wanted the same for you.”

Todd only nodded, unable to speak. He left the topic alone for a while, accepting that he would have a gang at his back. 

So it was the three of them who headed to the city. The drive went, thankfully, uneventfully, with Larry taking over the driving and allowing Todd some time to get some things done for his work. His boss was willing to let him work distantly, agreeing he deserved it after all the effort pulled, on one condition that his involvement would not slip entirely. There was still some time before Monday, but he wanted to get a head start. Depending on how things went, he might either throw himself into work again or avoid it like the plague, so getting something done would be for the best. While it wasn’t the best setup he had gotten, it was nice to focus on something else for the time, and he had done enough coding in most awkward places that the car didn’t even make the top ten. By the time they neutered the city, he had done quite a bit.

Peter and he had agreed to meet in a cafe. It was a small place decently far from their home, allowing enough privacy that neither of their neighbours would accidentally become the witness to what Todd suspected would be one of the ugliest conversations he had ever had. In addition, it was close to one of Peter’s friends, someone he would likely seek the company of once all of it was said and done. Sal and Larry would pick one of the side tables, neither too close nor too far to intervene if there would be needed. Todd doubted it would be necessary, but didn’t wish to find out.

The plan was so calculating, it startled even Todd himself. The fact that he had organised it all on his own was an added blow he wasn’t sure what to think of. He wasn’t a stranger to building plans; his team would gladly attest to it. Still, treating his likely break-up like another task on the burner felt somewhat disturbing.

They arrived a little earlier to set themselves up, and soon Todd found himself sipping surprisingly tasty coffee. The closer the meeting time arrived, the more nervous he became. His hands grew sweaty, and suddenly all of it seemed so foolish. They had worked through much worse arguments in the past. Could he not truly handle this one as well? A couple times he had to convince himself that no, they could not, subtly checking his surroundings to ensure no one had noticed.

Peter arrived, as always, exactly five minutes late. He stopped by Todd’s table, offering only a cold ‘hello’ before disappearing to make an order. At first glance, the man looked not at all worried, distraught or even interested in Todd’s well-being. If anything, he looked as if he had not even thought of Todd those last two weeks, which hurt more than Todd was willing to admit even to himself. 

Before long, Peter returned with a large cup to go in one of his hands. 

“So,” Peter began coldly once he sat down, “Is there anything you want to tell me before we talk?”

A shiver ran Todd’s spine under that look. His first instinct was to apologise, and it took considerable effort not to fall back on it. Todd took a deep breath, let it out. 

“Yes,” he said, willing his voice to remain even, “there is.”

Peter smiled, letting his guard down. He set his cup down, intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them, as something in that gaze softened. It wasn’t triumph, something close to it, but much more self-centred than it.

“Well,” he urged gently, “do go on. I’m interested in what might have come up in that mind of yours after two weeks of isolation. They must be worth the stress you caused me by disappearing so abruptly.”

“You did not think of checking on me until I reached out.”

“I know how much you value your privacy,” Peter returned, shrugging. “You need your time to think things through, it’s not something hard to see once someone actually talks to you. It does get too long sometimes, you really should work on that, but I didn’t mind. Was it so wrong of me to give you the time you clearly needed?”

Todd’s fingers tightened around his mug. “And telling me I could only return once I was done having a tantrum was the best way you could show it?”

“It was true, wasn’t it?” Peter frowned slightly, pretending to think of it, then sighed. “I will admit, I was a little mad at the time, but you have to understand me. It wasn’t me who abandoned you all on your own after a little disagreement. Don’t you think you might’ve overreacted a little?”

“No. Not a little. You are always doing this. Whenever I try to bring up something, you dismiss it without listening. I have tried explaining it, showing my side, providing proof that my decision would be better, but nothing works. It never has.”

“Not everything could be solved analytically,” Peter pointed out, his aloof expression gone. “There are issues that might need a more delicate approach. It might not make much sense, but it does work out in the end. For someone so smart I would’ve thought you understood.”

“I was trying to explain to you why I couldn’t afford to take a vacation abroad. My team needed me to be present and ready to help.”

“Yet it didn’t stop you from disappearing to whatever hole you’ve been to,” Peter argued. “Look, we don’t have to go. I enjoy fighting no more than you do. Just admit you were wrong, and all of this can be forgotten.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” Todd replied, feeling his heart ache. “You refused to listen to my explanation. You are doing the same now, in fact.”

“Because you aren’t making any sense,” Peter defended himself. “Why did you even invite me here if it wasn’t to patch things up? If you need more time, fine, but don’t accuse me of doing something wrong when I had only been looking out for you. That fight was because of you, and this one will be as well.”

Something broke inside him at the way that was said, at the casual disregard. It seemed like nothing he said truly matters to Peter, not as long as it meant admitting he might have been the issue. How could he have never noticed it before?

“I’ve asked you to come today to discuss our relationship,” Todd began quietly, his gaze fixed on the cup in his hands. “Because I cannot do it anymore.”

A beat passed.

“What?” Peter asked, more incredulous than hurt or worried. “What do you mean by that?”

“This, this is what I mean. I am tired of you treating me like my feelings and opinions don’t matter. Every time I try to offer something, you keep refusing without explaining why. When I try to find a solution, you keep barrelling on as if your opinion is the only right one. Even now, you do not listen to what I try to say. You keep rebutting me time and time again, no matter the topic, reasons or my feelings on the matter. Have you never thought I, too, might have something important to say?”

“I am always listening to you,” Peter insisted. 

“But are you hearing what I have to say? Have you ever noticed something before I had to point it out?”

“Of course. I would’ve been a bad partner if I didn’t.”

“Name one thing. One thing that you’ve noticed about me on your own without me having to tell you?”

“Well,” Peter tried, “I did notice you need time to think things through, to do research maybe. Was I wrong?”

“After our argument, I left a note explicitly stating that I left because I needed to think about everything. Have you seriously not found it?”

“You must have misplaced it,” Peter argued defensively. “You don’t really blame me for the mistakes you have made, are you?”

Todd sighed tiredly. He placed it directly on the fridge handle, so Peter would have to touch it the moment he needed something from inside. It was quite literally impossible to miss. 

“Try again,” he demanded. “I dare you to find something else.”

What followed next was embarrassing. Peter tried, pulling information either readily available on the Internet or, once more, things Todd himself had told him about. 

Disappointment filled him to the brim. Less on Peter’s behalf, no. The ignorance he was witnessing was nothing short of disgusting, especially knowing it had been half a decade already. No, he was disappointed in himself for choosing to be blind, for needing Larry to open his eyes. That latter would likely earn him a tongue-lashing, but Todd didn’t mind. Perhaps he had needed some sense pushed on to him.

“It’s enough,” Todd said, interrupting Peter’s pathetic attempt to guess his favourite drink. “You’ve not named one thing about me. Don’t you think it’s an issue we need to work on?”

Peter crossed his arms, smiling at him. “Not knowing your favourite colour doesn’t make me a bad partner. These details don’t matter that much.”

“They do when you can’t see big ones either.” Todd shook his head, mentally checking out. “I am done. Done with you, done with beating this dead horse all on my own.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Peter stared at him for several moments, the condescending smile frozen, seemingly trying to see through Todd’s facade the truth and coming short. At that moment Peter looked so ugly it was startling. Todd genuinely had trouble connecting him to the man he had been with, so different both versions were. Knowing he had been like that all along almost made everything worse. Then he shifted - slowly unclasped his hands, placed them on the table; his eyes drew dark with anger or surprise, Todd wasn’t entirely sure. The smile was the last to go, sliding off as if with difficulty.

“What?” Peter demanded coldly. 

“You’ve heard me, Peter,” Todd returned, feeling everything inside him tense in anticipation, but his voice remained strong. “I was thinking of offering you another chance, but I am done. You refuse to listen to me even now. A few more weeks wouldn’t change it.”

“And who gave you the idea?”

“What?”

“Who gave you the idea?” Peter pressed. “You would have never come up with it on your own, you’re too soft for that. Someone must have introduced it to you.”

A chair squeaked somewhere in the distance. Todd could almost see Sal having to physically restrain Larry from doing something to the man.

“People who actually care,” Todd said aloud. “Unlike you, they have noticed the changes and actually did something about them.”

A chuckle. “You think they’re better than me then? I don’t recall seeing them around you much over these years. Are you certain they will not disappear the moment you get back on your feet?”

“I am. Because you have been the only reason for the distance.”

They looked at each other for several moments longer. Peter tried to stare him down, silently convinced he was making a mistake despite realising it was a decision a long time coming. Todd willed himself to remain strong. He would not budge, not that time.

Suddenly, Peter pushed himself away from the chair and rose to his feet.

“You have five hours to get your shit out of our hours,” he told Todd. “After that, I’m changing the locks and selling anything left behind.”

Todd nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Peter gave him one last long look, seemingly allowing to take everything back. When Todd hadn’t moved, he nodded back and went out of the cafe, the doorbell chiming gently as the door closed behind him.

The moment he was gone, Todd felt his own shoulders sag. His hands shook slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him despite how odd it must have looked. Twin sets of footsteps approached; someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Todd didn’t react to it, simply breathing, focusing on little else until he was sure his emotions were back under control.

He could not believe he had done it. And yet, just in those few moments, he already felt lighter.