Everything as it should be
Sweetheart, your feelings are more important, of course.
Of course!
-- The Strokes, Razorblade
It was truly surprising how everyday life became a comfortable routine once there was nothing to ruin it, or rather, once it was finally starting to take the kind of shape Theodore had wanted it to take in the first place. It wasn’t like it’d happened by accident or even by itself; Theodore had worked hard for it, and now, he’d officially seen some results. As the semester progressed, he and Laith began seeing each other every day, to the point they practically lived together. The only reason Theodore couldn’t say that was the case was because they hadn’t moved any of their stuff around; he still went home to sleep and shower after class, then brought his homework down for his daily visit of the tunnels. They only slept in the same bed over the weekend, even if he always woke up before Laith, since sleeping in the morning wasn’t something he did anymore. It was more of a nap for him.
During the week, Laith walked him to class, went back to his apartment and got his turn to sleep. By the time Theodore came over, he’d already finished his shift at work, gone to the gym and made dinner. He didn’t always make it, though; sometimes, he just bought them both burgers or whatever else he knew Theodore liked. They’d never talked about it; Laith had simply gone ahead and made that a thing. He’d noticed Theodore was always hungry when they met up. Instead of getting embarrassed or feeling like a burden, Theodore actually really liked that. Coming home to Laith and a nice surprise for dinner was easily the best part of his day. He never knew what expected him. His favorite part was that Laith had ordered for him; that he’d taken the time to think about what Theodore might want or like to have that night. That he remembered past orders and what Theodore liked or didn’t like; no pickles in his burgers, no hot sauce in his tacos, no ice in his soda. Without him saying a single word, Laith had—by virtue of noticing how he ate—learned his favorite orders.
Since Laith always helped him with his homework, a common topic of discussion was his major and what he was going to do about it. They both agreed he wouldn’t last four years if he couldn’t even make it for six months, so he promised he’d talk to his parents that Christmas—after they gave him his car. That was still the whole reason he was doing this. While Laith didn’t necessarily agree with that and would’ve done things differently himself, it wasn’t his decision to make, so he went along with it. He didn’t think the car was very important, especially if it meant suffering for six months, but he knew Theodore really wanted it. The way Laith managed to disagree with him and still respect his opinions slowly changed the way Theodore disagreed with people. Saying he was pushy would be an understatement—he was stubborn. He stood his ground to a fault, not knowing when to let things go. His time with Laith made him realize that he could still hold his own judgment and opinions without necessarily imposing them. Sometimes, it was important to wash his hands with an agree to disagree and move on. Not everyone was looking for long discussions all the time, especially when it involved him telling them why he was right.
The fact Laith didn’t have a car, Theodore soon learned, was evidence that he didn’t care for them very much. He didn’t need one; the tunnels already offered great transportation that took him where he needed to be. Not to mention his building didn’t even have a garage and cars simply didn’t drive down there. That space wasn’t car-friendly at all. Laith was a very practical guy, straight and to the point; if he didn’t have use for something, he simply didn’t want it. Not so much to save up money, as much as the thought of buying something useless simply never crossed his mind. His parents had brought him up to only get what he needed; everything else was excess. As it turned out, he had money for a car, but no reason to buy one. That put into perspective just how much he really had. Theodore knew he hadn’t been poor in a long time; it’d just never occurred to him that Laith might make enough to live a good life. For some reason, he simply… didn’t. It might have to do with his upbringing; why would he have a huge house with multiple rooms if he just needed one?
The reason he lived in a cramped apartment the size of a hotel room in one of the noisiest and busiest buildings, Laith once told him, was because it helped him feel less alone. He confided in Theodore on a Wednesday night, when the queens had left for their respective performances and the hallway had grown a little quieter. He knew a lot of people, but didn’t really let anyone in. Noisy crowds helped him forget that. Theodore touched the back of his hand—over time, Laith had let him hold it. He also learned, as Laith struggled with intimacy, that physical affection was Laith’s favorite. The reason he struggled so much was because, like Theodore, he’d never learned how to do it properly, when to hug or hold someone’s hand. They ended up learning to do it together, starting with what they felt like doing in a particular moment. If Laith wanted to take Theodore’s hand while they talked, then he should do it, and if Theodore wanted to touch Laith’s hair during a movie, then he should go for it. It wasn’t easy at first—they kept asking each other if it was okay to do this and that, if they even liked it—but everything became easier with time, once they already knew what to expect. Theodore liked his hair played with while Laith preferred cuddles and long hugs, but that didn’t cross out everything else; they just did those things more often.
After Hwan blocked Theodore’s number, the only people they saw regularly were the queens, the girls and Justin. Emily called every once in a while to ask how they’d been doing, while the Poison Darts—Hwan’s friends—simply disappeared. Marquis blocked Theodore at one point too and never undid it. Theodore didn’t mind that; he’d done enough to deserve it. Most people would probably look back on it and feel bad, or at least wish they’d done things differently, but not Theodore; he didn’t regret anything. He’d gone after Hwan with a vengeance, hoping to end his relationship with Marquis so Hwan would be with him instead. There was no shame in that; people did it all the time. If he still wanted it to happen, he would’ve kept trying; the only reason he stopped was because, like Hwan had said, Laith didn’t deserve him. If this was going to be a three-person relationship, Theodore would have to find someone just as devoted to Laith as he was, which he didn’t think would happen. It was just as well; he didn’t think Laith was polyamorous anyway and he didn’t need anybody else. Laith was enough.
Ever since witnessing Laith’s behavior around Hwan, how easily he’d let himself be dominated, Theodore went ahead and changed their dynamic. He’d always wanted to top—and top well. Now, he felt like he could do it, not only because of Hwan’s coaching, but because he’d finally understood what attracted Laith to his partners—confidence. Theodore had been the most confident in himself when first pushing Laith to go out with him; buying him beers at the MOMA, bringing him home, leading their sexual encounters. He’d only let Laith take the reins due to his inexperience in bed, otherwise, he never would. As it turned out, that was how Laith had always preferred it too; he’d only topped because Theodore had asked him to. Theodore had always known that about him, but still, when Laith told him—relieved they’d finally turned things around—he was happy to hear it.
Just as Laith had done with him, he kept sex playful yet rough, which he assumed was how Laith liked it, and either way, it was how he liked it too. In the beginning, he still needed a little coaching; tips on how to move his body and keep from hurting himself. He was a good student and picked it all up very fast, able to bother Laith without help in no time. The more confident he became in his abilities, the more he tried to do things differently, taking inspiration from everything Laith had done to him before. When he started getting more into BDSM, he quickly learned he couldn’t hit Laith in any way. That revelation was surprising; he thought Laith liked that. He’d offered to let Theodore hit him many times in the past, so what changed? Well, apparently, he was fine with getting hit and topping, but not the opposite. That was how his relationship with the Serpent used to be, and while he still thought BDSM was hot, there were very specific instances that he simply couldn’t do anymore—the combination of impact play and bottoming was one of them. Theodore respected that, of course; he just wasn’t sure what to say or how to reassure Laith that everything was okay now. Laith knew this already, but still Theodore reminded him that he’d never do anything he didn’t want him to do. In response, Laith pulled him into a one-armed hug and kissed the top of his head.
That was the last time they ever spoke of the Serpent.
As the end of the year approached, Thanksgiving grew nearer. Laith told him he usually spent these kinds of holidays with friends, even if he didn’t celebrate any of them. He wasn’t religious at all; these were more of a cultural thing for him. Theodore felt similarly. His parents, however, would want him to spend them at home. While they didn’t go to church, they still called themselves Christians. The only solution they could find was for Theodore to do Thanksgiving twice; once with friends and once with family. Apparently, that wasn’t such a wild concept; when he told Ms. Intervention and D’angela, they said they’d been doing that for years. Even though they basically had no contact left with their families, a lot of their friends did, so celebrating holidays twice or one day early was normal. They invited Laith and Theodore as well, if they felt like going. Theodore only agreed if Justin could come too.
Thanksgiving with the queers—as they called themselves, despite D’angela’s gender—ended up being very eventful. Theodore got to meet a lot of gay men who were much older than him and had a lot more life experience, especially when it came to the queer community. They’d lived through momentous events in queer history and had participated in the activism that had made it possible for Theodore to live the life he currently had. The respect he had for them was insurmountable; he could barely believe he was in their presence, eating the turkey they’d made for him. They also had a great sense of humor and totally knew how to party; once the dancefloor was open, the moves they busted out were off the charts. Theodore even learned one or two.
In comparison, Thanksgiving with his parents was quiet. The size of the dining room made it so three people barely occupied a tenth of it, empty and cold. Most of their conversations regarded Laith, since—ironically—that was what they all had in common. They talked about him extensively, not just what they thought of him, but what they knew of him too; things he’d told them about himself. Carolyn seemed very impressed by his interest in metaphysics; she never thought a rat would’ve wanted to pursue academic knowledge or be involved with academia at all. She knew Laith hadn’t gone to college, but was confident he would’ve made a great student, perhaps even professor. If life had dealt him a better hand, would he have chased academic success? That question bothered her endlessly. Henry, on the other hand, was a lot more interested in Laith’s character. He’d always been a diligent worker, focused, who took his job and alliances seriously; Burman had nothing but praise for him. Henry was happy to see he’d applied that same work ethic to his relationship with Theodore, loyal to him too and serious about what they had. He was very impressed.
Theodore had no idea his parents would’ve come around so well; he thought their knee-jerk reaction would’ve been to try and break them up. While that might initially have been true, his sincerity that one night had definitely changed their approach. Instead of immediately putting him in a chokehold when he messed up, Henry now talked things through with him—a tremendous improvement. It also helped that Theodore had been seeing Fred and Dr. Miller, which his parents took as very responsible of him. They’d finally started seeing him as an adult and respected him as one. In turn, he told them how well he’d been doing in therapy and some of the things he’d been working on himself. He also told them Laith had picked up therapy again, which they loved to hear. The O.D. and hospital stay could be left out, though; they barely pertained to Laith anymore.
Ryan became an open wound, a ghost that the family didn’t like discussing. Theodore was the only one who vaguely knew what he’d been up to because sometimes, when Emily called, she let it slip out. They never talked about him at the dining table, but every once in a while, when the night began to stretch, Carolyn would find Theodore in the kitchen and ask after his brother, if there were any news. Whether she later told Henry about it, Theodore didn’t know. His guess was that she didn’t, because Henry never asked. It was the kind of topic that was too taboo to discuss openly; it had to be brought up first.
He got his car one day before Christmas, when the family was supposed to drive up to his grandma’s cabin. His father put the keys in his hand and told him he could now pick up Laith and maybe drive him somewhere nice for the holidays. Weren’t they going to grandma’s house, though? Sure, but that was Henry’s tradition. If Theodore wanted, he could start a new one with his special someone. A big grin pushed into Theodore’s cheeks.
The first trip he ever took was down to California, where he and Laith spent a week at the beach. That could be their tradition: Christmas, New Year and Laith’s birthday. Unfortunately, the subject of his major kept coming up—had he told his father about it? Not yet; Theodore would tell him after their vacation. So his father had no idea he didn’t intend to follow in his footsteps at all. No, but that wasn’t all true either; he wanted to be his father’s lawyer, not accountant. When that conversation finally happened, he was relieved to find Henry completely okay with that. His father even helped him change his major, going to campus with him, speaking to the administration over winter break. The following semester, he’d start a brand-new course.
On the day before his nineteenth birthday, his mother told him to invite Laith to the party. She knew Theodore would celebrate with his friends later anyway, but she’d like to have Laith over for the family reunion. Surprise raised Theodore’s eyebrows—sure, he’d ask. Laith hesitated. He wanted to, but he was afraid of how it’d go. Instead of trying to persuade him, like Theodore normally would, he gave him time to think.
In the end, Laith ended up going. It was nice to see him in the passenger seat; it reminded Theodore of their trip to California. Actually, every time they drove anywhere, his lungs filled with freedom, aware they could go anywhere, anytime.
As soon as he pulled up to his parents’ house, Laith whistled—they had columns on the front porch. Theodore didn’t know why that was so impressive, but yes, they’d gone with the columns this time. His mother had always liked those. Suddenly, Laith felt unbecoming, like he’d forgotten to bring a very expensive bottle of champagne or something, that he shouldn’t be wearing a huge parka and jeans to a mansion. It wasn’t a mansion, Theodore corrected; it just had a bunch of unused rooms inside. Plus, he couldn’t wear a suit and tie in the snow. His parents would understand the parka. Yeah, but he could’ve bought a suit and worn it under the parka. Theodore shook his head, smiling. Without saying another word, he took Laith’s hand and brought him to the front door.
This turned out to be the nicest birthday he’d ever had. Instead of one-upping Laith the entire time and showing off their possessions, his parents took him around the house and told him about their family. They spoke of their marriage, their early days as a couple and the kind of things they liked to do together, stuff Theodore had never heard before. Then, they spoke of their wedding and becoming parents, how Theodore had been like as a child, all the things he used to do. Laith was surprised to learn Theodore could play the piano. Sadly, that prompted Carolyn to bring them all into the sunroom, where she asked Theodore to play for them. This again. Rolling his eyes, he sat down and played some of his mother’s favorite songs—easy ones. She didn’t mind that he wasn’t trying to show off his—lack of—skills, lost in the melodies she’d memorized years ago. When Theodore played a waltz, she pulled Laith further into the room to dance with her, and surprisingly, he knew the steps. They weren’t very hard, but still. They danced far into the night.
The topics Henry and Carolyn had chosen to speak of prompted Laith to share a bit about his own family too, how his parents had stopped caring about one another very early on but had remained together to raise their kids. They used to live in a trailer park—here, Theodore watched how his mother’s eyebrows quirked, uncomfortable. They knew some of the neighbors but had never grown too close to them, always turned inward, focused on themselves. Laith always thought it was because they had something missing deep inside that they could never find, especially not in each other. That first disappointment might’ve been the beginning of the end. They barely spent any time together, even though his father worked from home. He argued that their physical closeness, unable to get away from each other, must’ve helped drive them apart. Hearing that simply crushed Carolyn—did they at least care about him? Not very much. After his brother died, it was like the thread that held the family together, despite how thin, simply snapped. His parents stopped speaking altogether, and when his sister left for college, he had no reason to stay home. He met Burman, got himself a job, a place and left. He hadn’t spoken to them in years.
That was the most Theodore had ever heard of his family. Carolyn’s bias toward Laith clearly came from camaraderie, another lost soul who had escaped their terrible fate. Henry, however, admired the fact Laith was entirely self-made, that everything he had was because he’d gotten it for himself. It reminded him of his own father, who had built the accounting office he now worked at. While his parents could absolutely choose to focus on the many ways Laith was different from them, the fact they focused on their similarities was a breath of fresh air. The way they embraced him showed how much they cared, not only about him, but about Theodore and the person he’d chosen to be with. They’d expressed their belief that this relationship was temporary, that they thought Theodore would choose a woman over Laith at one point, but their eagerness to welcome Laith told a different story. Laith had managed to impress them far too much. Theodore wouldn’t be surprised to see himself ten years from now getting married to Laith with his parents’ blessings.
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