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Scott runs out of the art gallery. Kip follows him, muttering excuses to the nice curator lady, who looks more sad/worried than any kind of upset.
When Kip gets back to Scott’s penthouse, having followed an agitated Scott who looked like he was crawling out of his own skin, he closes the door behind them with pitying gentleness. Scott starts apologizing, and cries on Kip’s shoulder. Kip holds him until the panic attack passes. He tugs a limp Scott into bed, and makes him drink a full glass of water before climbing in behind him, his smaller body being Scott’s big spoon. Everyone loves being the little spoon. It makes you feel safe, Kip thinks to himself.
Days later, Kip is locking up Straw + Berry, stomach flipping at the idea of the gala that night. His pocket buzzes. It’s a text from Scott. There's a present for you in the closet.
Kip knows Scott isn’t home, won’t be home until tonight after the gala. He lets himself into the penthouse with the key Scott gave him days after they first went home together. Scott showed him over and over that when he had asked Kip to stay, he meant it. He wanted Kip. So much, Scott had gasped before sucking Kip down the first time.
That beautiful memory is now overlaid with the memory of Scott’s panic attack. Not ruined, not for Kip. All of these pieces added up together into the man Kip was falling in love with faster than he had realized was even possible. But his stomach still flips as he approaches the closet. He takes a deep breath and chooses courage, even though at least a small part of him wants to run away or scream into the pillows. He draws the closet door open. What he sees in the closet has him staggering, his hand going to his mouth to catch the gasped breath.
Scott hadn’t exactly been accurate. There were two presents in the closet. Hanging first was a suit of Scott’s tailored to Kip’s measurements. They had enjoyed a spirited afternoon getting those measurements, and the tape measure had been ruined by the evening. Pinned to the suit was a note. For my man. -S
It is the thing behind the suit that has Kip’s eyes filling with tears. The painting from the gallery is leaning against the wall. It is large, almost ridiculous even in the generous space of Scott’s closet. There’s another note. You were right. This will be perfect on the wall to the bedroom. -S
Kip hasn’t doubted Scott’s feelings toward him, not exactly. But his fears about ever being able to stand in the light with the man of his dreams have begun to creep into his subconscious, turning sleep restless and filling his head with nightmares of Scott suddenly being gone. Sometimes, he walks away from Kip. Sometimes a monster snatches him away. Sometimes Kip walks away from Scott. Every nightmare causes Kip to wake, sweating and filled with dread.
As he looks on this painting, the very one Kip had gone to see, the one he had secretly hoped Scott would love enough to buy on the spot, would place on his wall to show that Kip belonged in this frighteningly lavish apartment in New York City for christsake, Kip wonders if Scott went back to the gallery in person. Did he call and have it delivered? Or did he go in person, to apologize and explain to the curator (a friend of Scott’s friend Eric, Kip remembers)?
Kip thinks of how much strength it must have taken to do that. How scary something like that was for Scott. And he knows Scott would never have done that, have dared to go back, if he didn’t truly love Kip.
As Kip gets ready for the gala, dressing slowly in the suit Scott had picked for him, he thinks of Elena and Scott meeting for the first time soon. He thinks about his father, and of grad school. And more than anything, he thinks about what it will cost him and Scott to love each other in secret when they deserve to be free.
And Kip Grady knows with certainty that it will be worth it, even if it twists into shapes other people can’t understand, even if it looks like they don’t love each other in public. Scott faced his worst fears for Kip. Kip checks his reflection in the mirror before he leaves. He sees a man ready to face any future.
Before he leaves the penthouse, he reverently brushes his fingers against a corner of the canvas.
For courage, for strength.
For love.