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The apartment was quiet, silent edges slicing into Stephen’s attempts at serenity.
“I made dinner,” Stephen said finally.
Tony had asked to come over and Stephen had been quick to agree. Stephen’d spent the hour wait preparing. He still didn’t know what to say.
“Great,” Tony said. “I won’t keep you, so you can get back to it.”
Stephen flinched. That hadn’t been what he meant. “I meant… I made dinner for us.”
“Us,” Tony repeated. His gaze cut into Stephen the same way the silence had. “I got the impression there was no us.”
“Tony…” He trailed off; Tony didn’t react, leaving the ball in Stephen’s court. “I should have called.”
Tony shrugged, casual if not for the pain in Tony’s eyes. “I got the message regardless.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry,” Stephen blurted. “I don’t want to lose you. Tony… Being without you is agony.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked. “What’s it like being with me?”
Stephen searched for the right answer.
Tony took the hesitation as an answer in and of itself. “Look, I love you, Stephen.” Oh. “I’ve tried, so hard, to change how they see me. But no matter what I do…” Tony sighed, he looked exhausted. “Maybe it’ll be agony now, but it’ll be quick. There and gone. You’ll find someone the tabloids won’t rip apart.” Tony’s smile tinged bitter. “Better agony now than death by a thousand photographs.”
“Tony,” Stephen whispered. “Please don’t… Don’t leave me. Please…”
“Do what, instead?” Tony asked. “Wait for the next time you won’t answer my calls because the latest rumor hit?”
Except Stephen loved Tony, too. Why had he never told Tony? Why had it taken until now, when Tony was prepared to leave, for Tony to say it first?
“Don’t let us end this way.” Stephen grabbed Tony’s hand. “Please.”