Chapter Text
Summer break had been busy. Leckie and Vera had moved in together, getting a small apartment in a shitty high-house building. It wasn’t particularly nice, and neither was the neighborhood, but it was close to the college they both went to. Besides lessons to attend, Robert had also gotten allowance to hold a few himself this year as well within writing. Writing, because he hadn’t been able to choose one part of it, and now it was a big mess of poetry, journalism and argumentative texts.
Speaking of moving in, Runner had started living with Chuckler, and they now got a place other than Leckie’s family’s garage to play. They did get quite a lot of noise complaints though. However, as long as they didn’t get any threats of eviction, they considered it better. Hoosier had also gotten an apartment of his own. Leckie knew nothing about it – where it was, how big, how many rooms. Nothing. Hoosier refused to say anything, and hadn’t invited them over a single time through the two months of ownership.
In all honesty, since the argument, it had felt like William has been avoiding him. As if Leckie wasn’t doing the same. Chuckler had tried to fix it, inviting them both in. But the few times Robert accepted, the few times he felt he could actually deal with an angry Hoosier, Bill would always be busy with some shift at the auto repair shop he worked at. At least one of his friends’ love life was going better; Mary and Sidney had just gotten together, much to everyone’s surprise.
Currently, Leckie was sitting in his classroom. To be fair, it was only his from 1400 to 1600 on Mondays, and 1100 to 1230 on Thursdays, but he liked to think of it as his own. You’d think his brain would’ve dropped that night of June long ago, but no, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe he had pushed too far, maybe he had actually just been in the way. Maybe Bill’s anger had been justified, and not just a minor inconvenience being made greater by his sour mood. It was impossible to focus on grading poems when his mind kept jumping to “what if’s” and what he should’ve done. Maybe William would’ve been waiting for him with his shitty Humvee if he had handled it better. But he wasn’t, and Leckie hadn’t.
Glancing down at the paper, he tries to remember what he was going to write. Something about the symbolism. He couldn’t recall much of the text, just that it was about heartbreak. His eyes flick from the parts he has underlined to the small Eugene written in cursive at the top, then over to his computer. The cursor blinked, waiting for him to type something into the Google search. What was he searching for? Right. The bleeding-heart dove.
His fingers move unhurriedly across the keys, keeping a slower pace than the clock ticking closer to 1600. The classroom was empty other than him, and he could hear the traffic outside. The damned traffic, always honking and moving forward like a lazy snake. He had taken his car only for a week before he started biking instead, realizing it was much quicker during the rush hours. It shouldn’t even be called rush hours, with how the traffic stood completely still.
The clack when he closes his computer echoes through the room. It was so bare, with white walls and light wood-colored tables and chairs. Only one plant, a plastic one at that, was standing beside the trash can in the far corner, and to the walls were posters of maps and facts poorly stapled.
He swings his bag over his shoulder, leaving the classroom and locking the door behind him. He’d have to finish grading once he got home. If he had the time, that is. Last week, before he had gotten a good look at all the assignments and tests of this week, he had promised to go running with Wilbur. It was idiotic – the man was insane, running in every weather, everywhere. Leckie supposed it was the orienteering that had caused it. They seemed to be a bit of a different breeds from all the others who run.
Unlocking his bike, he nearly gets run over the first road he crosses. It wasn’t the first time, and was the reason he stuck to the smaller roads whenever he biked. While it took a bit longer time, it kept him safe from the worst drivers.
Already on the floor beneath the one he and Vera lived on, he could already hear Runner through the walls and floor. Fuck, he really had to train today. He could do nothing but hope it wouldn’t be too long. Maybe he could try to get it down to three miles, but then he’d be teased relentlessly. Lingering on each step up the stairs, he tries to find the motivation. It slips through his fingers with every attempt.
Opening the door reluctantly, he’s greeted by a tired Vera and a hyperactive Wilbur.
“You ready?” Wilbur asks before Leckie has even stepped inside.
“I don’t… yeah.” He sighs, accepting his fate. He knew he had to get out, and it wasn’t like he was trying to fix his sleep schedule either. “Let me eat first?”
Eat, in the shape of microwave-heated porridge and a sandwich. Even with how shitty the apartment was (Leckie would lie awake at night and listen to the constant dripping from the shower) it still cost a lot solely for its location, and not a lot of money was left. Okay, he was overdoing it. He and Vera usually made dinner in the weekends, saving the leftovers for the weekdays. This time, he had been forced to do it himself and had efficiently proven he needs Vera for the logistics.
A few words of curiosity are exchanged as they step outside, just checking in how it’s going with the other one, before Runner trails off and gets stuck on the topic of a new movie that just came out. Leckie didn’t listen too closely; unlike what they had thought, they met more often now than before college. It was a bit ironic, as they didn’t even go to the same college. Even more ironic was that Runner’s was focused on athletics, giving him strict training programs and a bunch of competitions on weekends. Yet, he still found more time than before. Leckie supposed he completed the training quicker than he would’ve done finished homework.
They run a familiar route, Robert trying to focus on Runner’s lengthy analysis of the movie. It doesn’t go too well, because he finds himself thinking of everything and nothing at once. Eugene’s poem repeats itself, adjusting until he can hear it be read to the rhythm of his steps as they cross the bridge over the small river and keep going into the park. The trees are slowly losing their vibrant green, even if it’s still warm outside.
This was where he had met Hoosier for the first time. It had been a hot summer’s day, mid-June, and Robert and Lew had been getting ice cream when they ran into Runner and his friend. William hadn’t engaged much in the conversation, standing to the side and offering just enough words to pass as polite. He hadn’t been nervous, far from it, just disinterested. Leckie had spotted it, and out of courteousness (that was a lie. He had done it solely to annoy the blonde), he had asked if they wanted to come along. Bill looked like he had been shot, Runner pulling the trigger when he agreed.
In the end, they had gotten along fairly well. Okay, maybe not Leckie and Hoosier as they got into argument after argument, but enough to hang out more often. Since that day, he had come to associate the scent of lilacs with Bill as they had been out in full bloom, much to the other man’s dismay.
Leckie was still unhappy with Hoosier after the argument. The anger had watered down into the usual pettiness he always suffered from, but disappointment that usually would go with it was lingering. The fact that Bill had known William was gay, and Leckie hadn’t been told anything at all. Not even a hint. It didn’t sit right with him, chafing every time he thought of it. But then again, Leckie hadn’t said anything about his own feelings. But he liked women as well, maybe liking William was just a phase…? But William had been with women as well… He was losing it, his brain melting trying to figure it out.
With a hefty amount of motivation, he manages to focus on Runner again. The man is looking expectantly at him, waiting for his response.
“Uh, yeah, of course. You’re right.” Leckie nods, trying to sound confident in his answer.
“…you listening?” Runner sounds skeptical yet amused at Roberts attempt.
“Hanging on every word.”
He was in fact not hanging on every word, and Runner knew judging by the way he laughed. By now they had rounded the park and were on their way back. Robert’s clock vibrated against his arm, lighting up to tell him he had run 3 miles in 25 minutes. Not that good, but he’d excuse it after being rather inactive for the summer. He knew he must be dragging the pace down for Runner, but they both enjoyed this.
When they get to Leckie’s apartment building again, they bid goodbye before Runner keeps going, pace increasing. Robert watches him leave before stepping inside, taking the stairs up. It was annoying but was a sort of passive training for athletics, so in the end it was worth it.
Vera was lying on the couch, greeting him without looking up from her book. Leckie glances at the cover: Little Women. He had given her that on valentine’s day the first time he asked her out and had no idea how many times he had seen her read it. At least it was a good gift. He must’ve been good as well, not as a boyfriend but just a friend, with her asking him to share an apartment. When the nights get too long, he sometimes asks himself if he could’ve done anything different, if they would’ve still been together if he did.
The water is cold as he steps into it, washing away the sweat and grime from both body and mind. On the floor stood a newly bought body wash. Mango. Fuck, how happy he was Vera had given him the chance to be just her friend. She knew him too well.
The couch dips beneath his weight as he sits down, lifting Vera’s legs up to put them in his lap instead. Computer open again, the picture of a bleeding-heart dove staring into his soul as he reads through the poem again. His mind was clearer now, and he could focus more easily. The rhythm came back, the sentences floating together. Maybe he should tell Eugene how good he was. The kid would surely appreciate it, and there would be no conflict of interest now that Sid was together with Mary.
He sighs, passing the poem over to Vera. She skims through it, then furrows her brows in concentration as she reads it again.
“Is it one of yours?” She asks, passing it back to Leckie, who shakes his head as he takes it.
“Eugene. One of my students. He’s good, right?” The question was almost rhetorical. The kid was amazing, picking out words as if they were notes in a song. Leckie had urged him to publish some of his works in the local newspaper, or online, but hadn’t managed to convince him yet.
The clock is past midnight when Leckie finally decides to go to bed. Vera, more responsible and in all honesty wiser than him, had already left him alone on the couch two hours ago. The light from the computer hurts his eyes whenever he glances at it, so it’s a reprieve once he closes the lid and the apartment goes completely black.
He wasn't used to the layout just yet, forced to move around slowly so he doesn't knock over or walk into something. Even so, it felt more like home than his parents' house ever did. He loved his siblings, yes, but the house itself had always felt absent in some sort of way.
Now, rest came easily, even during the nights he went to bed at a proper time. Worries didn't gnaw at him into the early hours, and the few times they did, he knew he could always turn to Vera. All that was left was Hoosier, sitting in his heart and poking the sinus node every time Leckie tried to think of something else. He hoped it was only the late hour that was making him feel like this, that the ache would go away in the morning, but he knew better.