“Is it?” Sean asks, once again smiling. “I may just have to do something about that, then.”
“Oh good lord,” Happy mutters. “How can they be getting worse?”
“We just have to accept it,” Calvin says. “It’s our faults, really. All of us. We pushed for this.”
“And this is our reward,” Donald says, sounding particularly aggrieved. “Mike making heart eyes at his fella while we have to sit here and watch. It’s unconstitutional is what it is.”
“Idiots,” Mike says, but even he can hear the fondness in his own voice.
He moves toward his booth, nodding at the others in the diner, saying Good morning and Nice to see you and Why yes, I’ve still got copies of the new Philip Marlowe, of course I do, but you better hurry, they’re selling fast!
He takes in the photos on the walls, as he always does, the memories belonging to him and everyone else in Amorea. He’s got his favorite, and it’s a little biased, sure, but it’s one where he and Sean are sitting side by side on the dock at the large pond in the dark, feet hanging off, toes in the water. Their shoulders are brushing together and Sean’s got his head tipped back, laughing at something Mike had said. And Mike? Well. If there was ever any doubt how he feels about Sean, one would only have to point at that photo and say, “Look. See? This is what Sean means to Mike Frazier.”
The adoration is clear on his face, frozen in time from that day by the pond. He’s looking at Sean like he’s the greatest thing in the world. Walter was proud of that photo, capturing that moment, yelling over at them afterward with a big grin on his face, saying, Wait till you guys see this one! I know exactly where it’s gonna go. It’s gonna be perfect.
And it was. It is. Perfect. Walter’s not the best photographer, more a lover of the art than actually good at it, but he caught something with that photo.
He even hung it right above Mike’s booth, knowing how much Mike likes to look at it, even if Mike can never actually say those words out loud.
He’s still staring at the photo when he feels a hand trail along his shoulder. He lets himself lean into it, just a little bit.
A cup of steaming hot coffee is placed on the table before him.
“That was a good day,” Sean says. Mike looks up at him, only to see him gazing at the photo of the two of them. “That was the day I knew, I think.”
“Knew what?” Mike asks as Sean’s fingers curl into the hair on the back of his head.
“That I’d fight for you,” Sean says, and Mike feels a little chill at that.
Things haven’t always been like this between them, this slow, sweet curl of molasses that holds them together. Sure, Mike was knocked for a loop that first day he walked into the diner, unable to look away from Sean. He wasn’t expecting someone like Sean to ever exist in the world, at least not around him. He was rather breathless and intimidated, but Sean was kind and laughed like he didn’t care who could hear him. It made him look impossibly young, and therein lay the problem.
Because no matter how much Mike could spin it, no matter how much Sean would growl at him, there were still thirteen years separating them. Not to mention that on that first day, a week after Mike moved to Amorea, Sean was twenty years old. It seemed wrong, somehow. Mike was sure it would set the tongues wagging in town, and he didn’t want to bring that down on Sean. He also knew that Sean should be with someone his own age, someone who could give him eve
rything he could ask for. Sure, there were only a handful of people around Sean’s age in Amorea, but they’d be a better fit for him, wouldn’t they? And who was Mike to stand in the way of that?
No one. He was no one. Not really.
And it led to the one true fight they’ve ever really had. Mike began to pull himself away from… whatever they were doing, and Sean was having none of it. It didn’t take long for him to come busting into Bookworm, his bright eyes narrowed, jaw set.
Mike hadn’t been into the diner in days, had been hiding if he was being honest with himself. He’d thought maybe some distance would do them both some good, no matter how much it hurt. Sean would see, he told himself. Sean would see that Mike wasn’t good enough for him.
“I know what you’re doing,” Sean said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mike said, keeping his voice devoid of anything so as to sound like he was already bored of the conversation. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was what it was. He continued to build a display without even so much as a glance in Sean’s direction.
“Like hell you don’t, Mike Frazier,” Sean snapped, taking a step forward. “I’m not stupid, so don’t you dare treat me like I am.”
Mike might have winced at that, because if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Sean was probably the smartest person he’d ever met. He could certainly talk circles around Mike on most things. He knew the names of the birds in the sky. The trees around Amorea. He could recite poetry and mathematical equations. He could speak Latin and would read everything he could get his hands on. There were times he’d come into Bookworm and pull a book randomly off the shelf before curling up into one of the overstuffed sofas Mike had pressed up against the wall. Mike would watch him for hours, the sun filtering in through the window dappling Sean’s skin with little fractals of light. Those were the days when things felt lazy and slow, and more than anything, Mike wanted to kneel beside the sofa and take the book from Sean’s hand. He’d cup Sean’s face, rubbing his thumbs over Sean’s cheekbones and the anticipation would hurt so good that he’d revel in it.
But it wasn’t one of those days. It wasn’t, because Sean was fired up and Mike was a bastard.
So no, Sean wasn’t stupid. Mike knew that. He knew that probably better than anyone. But it didn’t change the fact that Mike had a decade and some change on Sean, and Mike didn’t want to take anything away from him. He’s just a kid, he told himself on the nights he couldn’t sleep. Just a kid and I don’t want to do anything with him.
It was a lie, of course.
“You’re not stupid,” Mike agreed, wishing this was already over.
“We were doing just fine until you started thinking with that fool head of yours.”