The Hwan question
Do you have any weapons on you?
I have a longing that's killing me.
-- Mahmoud Darwish, Memory for Forgetfulness
It was validating to know exactly how Laith felt for Hwan without him having to say a single word about it. Theodore couldn’t pick up on all of Laith’s emotions, but he’d gotten much better at reading them, even if he still couldn’t do it all the time. He knew Laith was just as excited to meet up with Hwan and reconcile; he just wasn’t ready to let it show. A comment of Hwan’s came to mind, how he and Qasim used to make fun of Laith when they were younger, to the point he’d cut all his hair off, so his apprehension now might be a result of that, the fear of opening up only to get hurt in the process. He didn’t trust Hwan—that was all he was willing to say. Other than that, Theodore had to come to his own conclusions. The fact Laith didn’t notice how obvious he was being led Theodore to believe he wasn’t being obvious at all, but that Theodore had grown to understand Laith’s body language. That lessened Laith’s advantage over him, still able to see right through him at any point in time.
Due to Theodore’s spike in popularity, done much worse by the selfie he’d taken on the subway, Laith decided to have Hwan over again. It wasn’t fair to say no one cared about what Hwan did, because people had definitely started to pick up on his involvement with Laith, but he still maintained a low profile in comparison. Discussions on why he’d switched jackets with Laith and why he’d visited him yesterday floated in the ether.
Once again by himself and already drunk, Hwan accepted a beer and joined the couple on the bed. They all sat on the edge of the mattress, since Laith didn’t have a lot of furniture to choose from. Theodore wanted to ask why Hwan hadn’t brought his squad this time around, but decided against bringing up touchy topics right out of the gate. If everything went well, then he’d consider getting serious. For now, they just had a few beers, listened to some music and talked. Nothing specific really came up; they just spoke of the tunnels, the Dead Ponies, Hwan’s family and Theodore—all things they had in common. It was actually insane just how much they talked about him; his hobbies, his taste in music, college, the girls and even his parents.
Laith filled Hwan in on the whole deal with Theodore’s parents and shared his grievances, how worried it made him that they’d figure everything out. That prompted the group to revise the plan step-by-step and go into detail. Hwan’s conclusion was that the plan was pretty good, actually; they just had to keep it at the forefront of their minds. In time, all the little details—exact dates of when things had happened—would blend together and lying about it would be pointless. This in-between period was exactly what Laith hated, though. Hwan reassured him that he didn’t need to talk about anything if no one asked, which was fair enough; Theodore’s parents would get bored of talking about it at one point. Laith just had to hold it out until then.
Eventually, their conversation took a turn. The alcohol content in Theodore’s blood kept him from noticing exactly when it’d happened, but somehow, he and Hwan ended up in a competition of who could embarrass Laith the most. It’d started when he’d asked about the kiss they’d shared. Laith immediately rolled his eyes and turned away, while Hwan egged him on to share the story. Not budging, Laith got up for another beer, so Hwan decided to tell it himself.
When they were around thirteen, they used to be very close. It was before Laith had cut his hair, which Hwan had liked a lot, actually. He thought it looked nice. Wait, why had he bullied Laith about it then? Theodore was curious. Because it was funny. Anyway, this one time, he tucked a strand of hair behind Laith’s ear and got a kiss in return—Laith had stolen it. He didn’t even remember if he’d kissed back. Yeah, Laith chimed in, he had. He spoke with his back turned, cracking a can open. His visible discomfort put a big smirk on Hwan’s face and an idea in his mind—he clearly loved this. Before he’d even started, Theodore already knew he was going to keep talking.
“Did you know Laith used to have a huge crush on me?”
Hwan’s question pulled a groan out of Laith.
“Oh, really?” Theodore teased.
“Oh, yeah. He used to make up excuses just to hold my hand. I’m scared of the dark,” Hwan mimicked, raising the pitch of his voice.
“I still am,” Laith protested. “I wasn’t bullshitting you.”
“Did that mean we had to hold hands when we walked from your place to mine? We were literally neighbors.”
“It was dark outside!” Laith turned around for that one, eyes wide on his face, bright against the red that burned his cheeks. “And there were no street lights anywhere! That fucking trailer park crawled with monsters, bro. It was terrifying.”
“It was like, ten feet to my place.”
“No, it wasn’t. It was much further.”
“You were just small.”
“Fuck off.”
Hwan laughed.
Despite the annoyance on Laith’s face, he wasn’t taking this the wrong way; he was just embarrassed. Was this the real reason he didn’t want Theodore talking to Hwan, in fear Hwan would make him look bad? Hwan seemed to have all the cards for that. A devilish smirk pulled at the corners of Theodore’s lips, and before he knew it, he was sharing stories too; harmless ones that he knew would only worsen the color of Laith’s cheeks. “Did you know Laith still keeps the nightlight on when he goes to bed?”
“It’s not a nightlight,” Laith corrected. “It’s a normal light. That one.” He pointed at the light fixture that hung low above the table.
“I believe that,” Hwan commented. “At a sleepover one time, when we were eleven, Laith had insisted on sharing my bed because sleeping on the floor scared him.”
“Would you stare into the abyss all night, lying on a cot too?” Laith challenged.
“No, you’re right; if I had to choose, I’d also prefer to cuddle my heart-throbbing crush.”
Laith brought a hand up to his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose as the other two laughed. Hwan was right; this was funny.
By the end of the night, the three of them had joked and laughed so much that being mad at each other would be pointless. Even though most of those jokes were at Laith’s expense, he didn’t seem too upset about it; the nostalgia must’ve had a hand in that, not to mention the fact that no one had meant him any harm. They were only teasing him because they liked him. He was adorable. Hwan had no problem admitting that too; he said it openly, staring Laith in the face. All he got in response was a shove and a half-hearted order to shut the fuck up. It was pretty obvious that this was how they used to be; Laith, the youngest of the bunch, getting mercilessly teased by the other two, especially because he used to wear his heart on his sleeve. He’d learned his lesson. Before Hwan left, he not only let himself be hugged, but also hugged Hwan back—just not too much. There were still some reservations there, differently from the hugs he gave Theodore, open-hearted and trusting.
The following week was spent half on the surface and half in the tunnels, since Theodore had to speak with Fred on Wednesday and Hwan had made plans to meet up with him on Thursday. The appointment with Fred was much different than expected; they barely spoke of Laith at all. Fred only brought him up once to explain that, when it came to patients with a certain medical history, i.e. the hospital stay, procedure demanded a viable contact to call, just in case. It was a little scary to think Theodore’s number might be needed, but he gave it out anyway; he didn’t think Laith would do anything, and if he did, Theodore would definitely like to know about it. Unsurprisingly, Emily used to be Laith’s emergency contact, but her lack of communication with him had caused Fred to reconsider. They had been speaking more and more sparingly, to the point he only heard from her once a week now. For some reason, he didn’t really reach out either. Theodore pointed out that he’d outgrown her, that he didn’t need a voice of reason anymore because he was finally able to hear his own. Laith didn’t agree exactly—his explanation had to do with Ryan. Since Emily had taken his side, she’d distanced herself from the people he didn’t like. Theodore suspected they were together now, but Laith wasn’t so sure.
On Thursday morning, Theodore decided to knock on her door and ask, since this didn’t seem like the type of conversation they should have over the phone. She answered with surprise on her face—what was he doing there? Her whispering indicated Ryan was still asleep, so he’d come at the right time. He stepped into her personal space and shut the door, lilacs and cherries heavy in the air. She didn’t step back or give him a single inch, unflinching—she didn’t want him in the apartment. Her steadfastness forced him to physically stop himself from walking into her, chest brushing the lapels of her jacket. Used to staring up at people, he forgot how it felt like to have to glance down at somebody. Her bangs were brushed to the side today, lips still bare, even though her eyes were done. This wasn’t the weekend, so she didn’t have any eyeliner on.
“Laith misses you.” He didn’t know if that was true, but figured that opening with what he’d come here to ask wouldn’t be very smart, so that would do. It put a suspecting look on her face.
“No, he doesn’t. He has you, genius—he doesn’t need me anymore.”
“That’s not how friendship works.”
“Oh, we’re still friends; we’re just not codependent anymore. We still talk. I literally called him this week.”
“Are you codependent with someone else now?”
She stared at him. While that look wasn’t quite a glare, it also wasn’t friendly. If it could touch him, it’d shove him against the wall and hold him up by the collar. “Ryan needs me,” she explained.
“He needs everybody all the time. You can give and give and give and he’ll still need more.”
“That’s not true. All he needs is the bare minimum.”
“In exchange for what? What are you getting out of this?”
“Everything. I’m important to him.”
“You’re important to me too.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need me either. Turns out, getting you and Laith together was the right move after all, because you’re exactly what both of you need. Ryan and I don’t have that. My attention keeps him sane and his devotion keeps me relevant. Everyone has someone to give them what they’re missing, so we’re doing this now. Even Justin’s found himself a girlfriend.”
“You have no right to be upset about that. You literally wasted your opportunity to be with him.”
“I never wanted that and I’m not upset either; I’m just telling you how it is. We don’t speak as often because he doesn’t need me as much. Theo… I need people who need me; it’s the only way I can feel good about myself. When Ryan comes into my room late at night crying his eyes out… I don’t think I can describe how loved I feel. Knowing he chose me first, that he trusts me enough to open up like that gives me purpose. I need him as much as he needs me right now. When he doesn’t need me anymore, I’ll find somebody else. Broken people are easy to find. I was never going to be with Justin because he’s not broken. He's perfect and he deserves to be with someone who’s just as good and full of life as he is. I hope your friend is that person.” She took one of his hands and brought it up. Since the space between their bodies was so small, their hands ended up squished between them. Somehow, that felt intentional. “I’m always going to be your friend and I’ll always be there when you need me, even if you’re a jerk sometimes. I know, deep inside, that there’s a little boy who cares way too much. If he starts crying again, call me.”
“You should go ahead and be a fucking nurse, you know that?”
A wide grin split her face in two. “No, I hate people.”
He thought it’d be difficult to explain that conversation to Laith and Justin, but they ended up getting it very quickly. They must’ve already known about that side of her. Still, the atmosphere grew heavy, almost sorrowful. At first, Theodore thought they were upset she’d stopped talking to them as much, but as the night progressed, he realized those two were actually mourning the loss of their former friend group—Ryan included. While Laith had already gone through that, Justin apparently hadn’t. His feelings easily bled into Laith, though; the sponge of bad vibes. It only took brief reminders of upsetting events to ruin his mood.
In just a handful of weeks, the Hwan situation snowballed. When they’d first met up, Theodore had no idea what would happen, if those two would even get along. The whole point was for them to resolve their issues and get some closure, simply be able to put up with each other so Theodore’s friendship with Hwan wouldn’t impact his relationship with Laith. That was it. He hadn’t expected anything else, not realistically. The fact they’d gone from hating each other to liking each other in a matter of days—no, hours—blew his mind, and apparently, it blew Marquis’ too.
Their meetings with Hwan quickly became routine. Every once in a while, they’d meet up to talk and have some drinks, either at Laith’s, Hwan’s or even at Theodore’s. At that point, everything was fine; it was only when they’d finally decided to hang out in public that things took a turn. Marquis, as it turned out, didn’t like this friendship. He didn’t like his boyfriend seeing the Great White Shark, who used to have a crush on him, and much less spending so much time with Theodore, who currently had a crush on him. Hwan only talked about that a couple of times, but it was clear Marquis had objected to it from the very beginning; he’d just lost that particular battle. When Theodore pressed, Hwan killed the subject entirely and changed the topic.
In theory, their plan to party at the DP was fine; they’d only have a few drinks and dance, same as they’d always done. Since Hwan’s friends refused to see Laith and Theodore’s friends refused to enter the tunnels, it’d have to be just the three of them alone. That was mistake number one—or was it? Theodore couldn’t say he hadn’t dreamed about this exact scenario multiple times in the past. Then again, he never thought it’d actually happen; his hopes of a threesome with these two had always been unfounded, an impossibility in the back of his mind. The energy in the DP slowly changed that, though. He didn’t know what it was about it that just turned people on; if it was the music that did it, the alcohol or the half-naked crowd. Either way, as soon as Laith pulled his shirt off, a world of possibilities flashed before his very eyes. At this point, they were all drunk, the club was very hot and loud pop music shook their ribcages. Incidentally, of course Laith was the type to take his shirt off on the dancefloor.
Hwan made no effort to hide his stares. He ogled Laith openly; the tattoos on his skin, the size of his arms, the happy trail down his stomach. Laith noticed it too, but didn’t do anything about it. Instead, he elbowed Hwan on the side and kept telling him bad jokes. It worked well enough—Hwan’s eyes remained on his face for longer now, reminded of who this was. The opportunity, however, was there. Neither one of them would ever go for it, which was where Theodore came in. If he played his cards right—and he usually did—he might manage to pull off the impossible.
His first move was to step into Laith’s personal space and start touching him. Both hands grabbed Laith’s sides as his head dipped to land kisses down his neck, lungs enraptured by tobacco mixed with sweat. He eyed Hwan from under Laith’s jaw, unaware he’d catch Hwan staring. That put a big smirk on his face, mostly hidden on Laith’s skin. Then, while holding the stare, he parted his lips and slowly sunk his teeth in, tongue flashing—that was when Hwan looked away. Laith didn’t seem to care that his boyfriend bit and sucked on his neck while surrounded by people who did the same. A hand even found the low of Theodore’s back, fingertips slipping under the hem of his jeans. His shirt rode up with the movement, showing off a sliver of skin. Hwan noticed that, glanced at it and just as quickly averted his eyes. Too bad Theodore couldn’t see his crotch from here.
Half a step brought his body flush against Laith’s—he could feel him on the low of his stomach, half-hard. Both hands squeezed his waist as he trailed back up, sloppy kisses that could just as well be mistaken for the glossy sheen of sweat. With his lips on Laith’s ear, he whispered half-truths of what he wanted to do to him, where he wanted to touch him, how he wanted tonight to go. The other half included Hwan, so he kept it out of the conversation for now. The plan was to get Laith going first, then carefully add in Hwan, like a mischievous little recipe. As expected, Laith liked what he had to say; the hand on his back dropped down to his ass, squeezing it. Still listening, Laith turned a bit and finished the rest of his drink. That opened a gap where Theodore was able to see Hwan, only a couple of feet away, pretending not to watch them. Theodore reached over and touched Hwan on the chest, fisting his shirtfront. It was enough to seize his attention.
“If you had to kiss one of us right now,” Theodore started, just loud enough for the other two to hear, “who would it be?”
“I’ve kissed you before,” Hwan stated.
“So, out of curiosity, you’d go for Laith this time?”
“You’d have to,” Laith cut in. “That’s your only option.”
Even though Hwan knew he wasn’t allowed to be with Theodore anymore, the reminder was still pretty rude. Something about the way Laith had said that, though, be it the tone of his voice, which bore no bitterness or malice, or the look in his eyes, still burning with interest, kept Hwan from taking offense to it. Instead, a slow smirk cut through Hwan’s face, eyes low. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? You’ve wanted it for years.”
Laith’s jaw tensed, face growing warm. Still holding onto him, Theodore felt his back straighten. “I don’t want you touching him is what I mean,” Laith defended.
“Alright, then… disprove my point. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about it.”
“I haven’t thought about it in years.”
“Are you thinking about it now?”
Laith swallowed dry. His silence only served to widen Hwan’s smirk.
“You’re so cute. You haven’t changed at all,” Hwan commented, bringing his drink up for a sip.
Their dynamic was extremely charming, how easily Hwan could get under Laith’s skin and make him blush like that, embarrassed with only a few words. Seeing him lose his composure to someone who was two inches shorter and not nearly as built, for some reason, just turned Theodore on. He could watch these two all day. Hwan’s proficiency definitely came with years of practice, used to having the upper hand over Laith, even if his delicate little childhood friend had grown taller and bigger with time. Somehow, he managed to smooth Laith’s roughness, bringing out a softer side of him.
Hwan took a step closer. It wasn’t enough to put him in Laith’s personal space, although one more would do it. Laith didn’t move, holding the stare. Only then did Theodore realize this wasn’t a front, but a challenge—an invitation for Laith to take. If he wanted to, he could close the distance with a single step and meet Hwan’s face with his own—would he? He hesitated.
“Do it,” Theodore encouraged. “It’ll be hot.”
Laith passed him a glance, unsure. He clearly wanted to, but something held him back, too afraid to go for it—why? What scared him? That it wouldn’t be as good as he’d always dreamed of? Theodore could tell, from firsthand experience, that he wouldn’t be disappointed.
His palm ran up Laith’s back, touching him softly. When it reached the tattoo between his shoulder blades, Theodore gave him a little push. He wasn’t strong enough to actually stagger Laith in any feasible way, so the small step that followed was entirely out of Laith’s will. Another half-step, taken without the aid of a push this time, put him in Hwan’s personal space. A hand came up to touch his neck, hold him by the nape, Hwan’s grip firm. The smirk that flashed over Hwan’s face was so brief that Theodore could only catch a glimpse of it before it was on Laith’s face, pressed against his lips. Laith almost staggered with the force of it, head tilting back a bit, eyes closed. The same way he always did with Theodore, he followed Hwan’s lead, parting his lips as naturally as if Hwan had told him to do it, tongues meeting for a brief second, hidden right after.
It was as messy as Theodore had hoped. They were drunk out of their minds, after all. Laith kept a hand on Hwan’s chest the whole time, right where it met with his throat—a warning. If Hwan went too far or tried to get too close, Laith would push him off. He’d always kept a safe distance from Hwan, acting cautiously around him, a little too mindful of himself. If he ever ended up trusting Hwan again, it’d take him a long time to do it. In contrast, he kept his other arm around Theodore’s waist, holding onto him for dear life. None of this would be happening if he weren’t here, after all; he was the sole reason Laith felt comfortable with it. Obviously, Hwan didn’t push it—he never would. The hand on Laith’s neck only moved to let go, not touch him anywhere else. A second later, Hwan broke away. Laith mirrored his movement, stepping back as well.
Before they could get too far from each other, Theodore wrapped his free arm around Hwan’s waist to keep him close. “I think we should go somewhere else,” he suggested.
Neither one of them said a thing about that, be it in agreement or otherwise; Laith turned to glance at the crowd while Hwan knocked back the rest of his drink. Were they… embarrassed? They didn’t seem able to look at each other right now. No matter; Theodore took the lack of opposition to mean they were okay with the idea and proceeded to take their hands. Again, they didn’t object.
Laith’s hand fit into his own like a glove, falling perfectly within his hold, palms snug together. Hwan’s wasn’t much different; his practice with intimacy made him a natural. Holding his boyfriend’s hand for the first time, Theodore led the two through the crowd.
A few feet away from the bead curtain, Hwan stopped him. It prompted Theodore to stop Laith too, turning to glance back at Hwan.
“I can’t go in there,” Hwan explained. “I can’t touch him at all.”
“You’re not going to,” Theodore lied. “You’re going to touch me. Can you still do that?”
Hwan’s lips parted, hesitating. “Yeah.”
“Then you’ll be fine.”
He most likely wouldn’t, but Theodore didn’t care. If he were Marquis, he’d end the relationship as soon as he found out about this, which would only be a net positive for the three of them. He could just imagine what it’d be like to have the golden threesome available at all times. Even better, if Hwan would be his too—fully and entirely his.
***
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***
Fully clothed once again, the three of them sat on a different portion of the couch. Laith sat next to Theodore and pulled him into a hug, holding him against his chest. His sudden bursts of physical affection were still very surprising; he could go from spending an entire day without touching Theodore to grabbing him and squeezing him tight for twenty minutes straight. He buried his nose into Theodore’s hair, snuggling him. Theodore held him back, now with a heart three times its own size. Was this aftercare? They hadn’t necessarily done a scene, but it had been different. It’d been intense, anyway; not what Laith had been used to. Theodore knew he’d done a lot more than this, that he’d been pushed far beyond his limits, but not recently. Plus, they’d never been with a third person before. He probably just needed reassurance that everything was okay; that they were okay, so Theodore rubbed his back and told him he loved him. That wasn’t always what Laith wanted to hear, but maybe he needed it right now.
Hwan kept his eyes over the railing behind the couch, where fog obscured the ceiling lights and music played. The silent revere from a moment ago was gone, replaced with a much sharper, more brooding look. Worry almost pinched his eyebrows, on the verge of twisting his features. He must have been rudely reminded of his relationship with Marquis and how none of this was okay. He’d betrayed Marquis’ trust. He was always so considerate of everybody else’s feelings that berating him for finally doing something for himself seemed unfair. It was the right thing to do, but then, why couldn’t he just follow his heart more often? He'd clearly wanted this. Then again, he wanted to be with Marquis too. He really must be the perfect boyfriend if Hwan wanted to be with him so bad, just not for a night. Hwan had only escaped once, a quick prance around the Garden of Eden. What he didn’t know was that, if he wanted to, he could live here for the rest of his life. Theodore was pretty sure Laith would let him.
He touched Hwan’s hand, pulling his attention away. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Hwan nodded. “I’m just in trouble.”
“No, you’re not,” he lied. “Just tell him you were with me, not Laith. He doesn’t need to know.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? If Laith cheated on you.”
Hm. If Laith went behind his back and met up with Ryan in secret—it was so unlike Laith that he couldn’t even picture it. Laith betraying his trust… It was literally impossible. He’d gone to Ryan’s party all those weeks ago, but not with the intent of getting with him. Not to mention he’d told Theodore about it anyway. He couldn’t lie, and even though he didn’t tell Theodore everything, he had a feeling Laith would’ve told him something as colossal as that. In which case, he’d first murder Ryan, then break up with Laith. That, however, wasn’t the conclusion he wanted Hwan to arrive at.
“No,” he lied again. “I don’t see why you should tell Marquis the truth when getting away with this is so easy.”
“It’s not fair to him. We have a commitment.”
Not anymore, he bit back. Instead, he nodded. “I hope he understands.”
“Yeah… There’s really nothing to understand, but thank you.”
Laith listened to all of this without saying a single word, even though a lot about it troubled him. What happened after troubled him too. Hwan, as a parting gesture, hugged Theodore first, and with his face in Theodore’s hair, told him he loved him. Theodore whispered the same back as dread crept up his spine, the feeling they’d never see each other again, that this was the last time they’d ever be this close. Then, Hwan hugged Laith and told him the same. Laith didn’t say anything back—he couldn’t, even if he felt the same. Theodore didn’t actually know. Instead, Laith half-held Hwan back, wide-eyed.
It was only when Hwan was gone that Laith spoke up. “He said he loves me,” he mumbled, distraught. His eyes remained in the spot Hwan had been just a moment ago.
“Yeah,” Theodore added, “and he meant it too. He’s loved you for a long time.”
Laith fell silent. His eyes slowly dropped, eyebrows pinching delicately. “You haven’t… lied about him, right? The stuff you did together. I know you want him to lie about this and if you were him, you would, but… you haven’t lied to me, have you?”
“No!” Theodore panicked. “I’ve been very honest with you—and, if I were him, I wouldn’t want to lie at all. I’d choose to tell the truth and own up to my feelings, that I do, in fact, love you. It’s pointless trying to change how you feel about someone. You just can’t choose that, so why even try? You know exactly how many times I’ve been with him and that’s all there is to it. Every other time we met was on friendly terms, and if you’re wondering, we haven’t met at all since you two began to get along. I have no reason to see him without you.”
That quickly changed. He sent Hwan a text the following day, asking after him, how it’d gone with his boyfriend and how he was feeling, only to find that Hwan had blocked him. In one way, that answered his question, that their conversation hadn’t gone well at all. Marquis must’ve given him an ultimatum, either their relationship or Theodore and Laith. Hwan, smart as he was, chose not to start something new with a high potential for failure, but preserve his year-long relationship that he already knew how to nurture. That included not speaking to Theodore anymore. Fair enough. It hurt, of course, to get cut off so ruthlessly, but since that wasn’t like Hwan, Theodore didn’t think it’d stay that way. Hwan probably just needed some time to restore things with his boyfriend, and once Marquis trusted him again, he’d unblock Theodore and tell him all about it. Of course, that could take a while. Theodore understood that. The problem was that he wasn’t patient enough to wait around, and instead, paid Hwan a visit only two days later. It was the middle of the week, so he knew Marquis wouldn’t be around.
Hwan opened the door with an apologetic look on his face. “I can’t talk to you right now.”
“I know; I just came over to see how you’re doing. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m… okay. It’s just been tough. Marquis is really pissed off, but he’s giving me a second chance. Part of the deal is that I can’t talk to you anymore.”
“You’re already breaking it.”
Hwan pressed his lips together in a sort of helpless gesture, shoulders bouncing. “I should’ve explained this instead of blocking you outright; I’ve just been too afraid to unblock you.”
“Did you know I’d come here?”
“Kind of, yeah. I was hoping I could explain myself to you. I knew you wouldn’t be upset, but I just felt bad.”
He took a step closer. Hwan didn’t flinch, remaining in the doorway. “Do you want to resurrect your relationship, or do you just not want to hurt him?” he whispered. “Because Marquis is a strong guy. He can take care of himself.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve been thinking about it since… the club, honestly. You saw me zoning out—I was considering ending things.”
His eyebrows bounced.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Hwan quickly continued. “I blocked you, remember? I’m choosing to work things out for now.”
“Is that what you really want, though? I saw the way you looked at Laith last weekend. Are you sure you don’t want him instead?”
“Yes, I’m sure. What I’m not sure is that I don’t… want… you.” Hwan swallowed thick.
Theodore’s heart shot for his mouth, propelling him forward. He took Hwan’s hand in both of his. “Then be with me. Be with both of us! We both already love you.”
Hwan parted his lips, but nothing came out. His hand moved out of Theodore’s grasp and touched his face instead, cupping both of his cheeks. “I don’t know that I can.”
“I’m telling you you can!”
“No. Theo… please don’t take this the wrong way, because I love you, I really do, but I don’t… trust you. You lie way too much, you go behind people’s backs and you end relationships—you’re a hurricane. You swept me off my feet and took me by storm and I love you for that, but you terrify me. I need someone calm and peaceful to be a constant in my life, not a reason for me to worry about the next interesting guy that will make me irrelevant. You have Laith; he’s your entire life—there’s no room for me.”
“He’s been in love with you since he was eleven. If you don’t trust me, then trust him. He won’t let you go.”
“I can’t do that to him. I can’t give him hope and then fail to love him the way he needs me to. He deserves you, who’s obsessed with him and will give him all the attention in the world, not a fake promise. I can sleep with him just fine; he makes it easy to be attracted to him, but I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love with him.” That was the saddest thing he’d ever heard. His heart just broke.
“Why not? What’s wrong with him?”
Hwan shook his head, letting his hands slip from Theodore’s face. “It’s really shitty of me to say this, but… he’s too broken for me. I don’t have what it takes to put him back together. If I wasn’t broken too, then maybe I’d give it a shot. Maybe we would’ve been together from the beginning. I don’t know.”
Theodore nodded carefully, eyebrows pinched upwards. Everything inside him hurt. “Oh,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.”
Walking out of Hwan’s building, he had to hold his stomach with an arm, hand grabbing the railing as he bent forward with pain. This entire time, he’d pitied himself for not having anyone choose him first or love him back, because in his mind, Hwan was the only one capable of that—of giving him exactly what he needed—when Laith had destroyed everything in his life to be with him. Laith had literally given up everything for him. My god, what else would the man have to do to prove how much he cared? Was Theodore really that blind, that three meaningless little words were more important to him than fighting the odds to be with him? It might’ve come naturally to Hwan, saying that and meaning it too, but he’d lost absolutely nothing while doing it. He hadn’t given up anything, and in fact, never would, because the one person he could lose was the one he refused to give up. Hwan had always loved Marquis more than Theodore and that was fine; he’d never expected any differently. It was just mind-boggling to think he’d mistook Hwan’s ability to say three words for more affection than everything Laith had ever done for him.
Back in Laith’s apartment, the first thing he did was give him a big hug, the kind that almost killed his balance. Laith hugged him back, a little confused, but not at all against it.
“I’m not seeing him anymore,” Theodore confessed. “Hwan, I mean. You can, if you want to, but… I think I’m done with him.”
“Did you see him just now?”
“Yeah. He’s not speaking to me to save his relationship, which is fine; it’s what he should do.” He pulled away to look up into Laith’s face. “I love you. I don’t need him to say it back to me when I have you standing right here in front of me. You don’t need to say it either—I already know you feel the same. I guess it just took me a while to be okay with that.”
The crease between Laith’s brows didn’t vanish, but its root caused changed from confusion to careful understanding. “I’ll say it back one day,” he promised. “It’ll just… take me a minute.”
“That’s okay. You really don’t have to say it at all; everything you do already says it without saying it. I just needed to see that.”
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