Zyan
Zyan wasn't sure what had possessed him to get to this point, but there he was.
He looked back and forth between the sticky note and the building looming in front of him, and was just about to head inside when he saw a pair of legs appear at the top of the stairs. Zyan ducked away, blending into the pedestrians on the sidewalk. After a few seconds, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted a flash of bright red hair before it disappeared into the crowd.
He breathed a sigh of relief and made his way back to the front door just in time to stop it from falling shut. At least he'd be spared the undoubtedly uncomfortable conversation over the intercom.
The ascent up the stairwell and search for the right apartment was spent second-guessing his entire reason for being there.
Was this right? Should he be here? The letter he'd found made him believe so. It'd so conveniently fallen at his feet while he'd been packing. Like a nudge from the universe. Like an unseen force, telling him to rethink his decision. But this wasn't like him. He wasn't one to follow signs or let fate decide, yet the words on the page wouldn't leave him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
As he exhaled slowly, he raised his fist.
The knock sounded unnaturally loud as it echoed off the walls. He felt his shoulders tense as he took a step back and brought his hands together to stop himself from fidgeting.
A few seconds passed. In the deafening silence of the hallway, he contemplated leaving and never looking back, but before he could convince his feet to move, the door opened.
Carter was still in his pajama bottoms. His t-shirt was wrinkled, his feet bare, and his hair a mess. Clutched in his hands was a bowl of cereal, already half-eaten. In that state, he had no right to still take Zyan's breath away.
"I just saw Jessica leave," was the first thing Zyan blurted out. "And I know Ava has an early shift today, so you're alone, right?"
Carter nodded. He looked stunned, eyes wide, lips parted.
"Can I come in?" Zyan forced his voice to remain steady, even while his fingers twitched with nerves. He hoped Carter didn't notice.
If he did, he didn't say anything. The door opened wider as he took a step aside in silent invitation.
Zyan brushed past him, and Zyan had to close his eyes at their proximity. His heart sped up. His stomach fluttered. Just his smell brought back memories of first kisses and secret meetings.
"Have you eaten?" Carter asked.
The question made Zyan's heart clench. Had he just been offered breakfast by his ex-husband, after the way their last conversation had ended? Zyan brushed it off as a natural reaction, ingrained politeness, nothing more.
He glanced at Carter over his shoulder. "Um…no. But it's okay, I'm not hungry."
Carter nodded and shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He looked unsatisfied.
"Something wrong?" Zyan asked.
"Almond milk," was all Carter answered. "Too watery, takes away the crunch."
Zyan nodded absently as he averted his eyes. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve as he stared down at Carter's chest. "I know you must wonder why I'm here," he started.
"If I weren't still half-asleep, I probably would, yes."
Zyan nodded. "I, uh…Ava came by a couple of days ago, and…she told me you'd be here for a while. She gave me the address and told me to come talk to you."
"Why?" Carter barely finished speaking before he headed for the kitchen. His shoulder brushed Zyan's as he passed.
Zyan tensed as he sucked in a breath and forced his body to remain still. He listened to Carter in the kitchen, switching on the faucet and rinsing his bowl. "I'm not sure," Zyan answered. "I didn't give her a chance to explain herself." But he could guess why she'd come by. She'd wanted to be there for Zyan, push him in what she believed to be the right direction. He could only assume Jessica had been doing the same for Carter.
"You tend to do that." Carter reappeared in the doorway.
Zyan winced. "Yes," he said carefully. "But she made me realize what I'm doing is stupid."
"Which part?"
"Everything," Zyan replied. "The pushing you away when all I want is to pull you closer. The running away to avoid my problems. The refusing to talk when it's the only way to fix this."
You want to fix this? The question was written all over Carter's face, but those weren't his next words. "When have you ever run away?"
"When you got together with Aaron. When I started to doubt you," Zyan said. "When I told Ava I wanted to move. I even made plans to go back to Hawai'i."
Carter didn't seem to even try to hide his pain.
Zyan understood. How often had he told Carter he couldn't bear to face the memories alone? How often had he poured out his heart over the things he'd lost that day—his mother, his sister, his home, his life? If Carter did still love him, it had to be tough to imagine Zyan going back there to face his past on his own.
Carter cleared his throat. "When are you leaving?"
Zyan looked over at him. "I'm not. I extended my contract today for another six months."
Carter exhaled audibly.
Zyan was aware Carter understood what this meant for them. This was Zyan giving them another chance. This was him opening up to the possibility of a fresh start. He wasn't sure whether it was the right thing to do, whether they were meant to be together, or if their relationship just wasn't meant to last beyond the point of Zyan's death—all he knew was Carter felt relieved. That he wanted this. That after several decades, they were once again on the same page. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as new opportunities revealed themselves to him.
Zyan dropped all pretense of self-control at the mix of emotions showing on Carter's face.
"Thank you," Carter said. It stung, but not as badly as everything that had happened before.
Zyan's lips tugged up in a small smile. "Don't thank me. I haven't done anything to deserve it."
Carter seemed unsure how to respond. Ultimately, he chose to acknowledge the comment with a small nod. "Would you like to sit down and stay for a bit?" he asked eventually.
Zyan took in Carter's unguarded expression and the hopefulness behind his eyes before he answered. "Yeah. I'd love to."
Carter's shoulders drooped as he nodded and approached the fold-out couch. Zyan followed cautiously.
They kept two feet of distance between them as they sat with the messy sheets piled up behind them. Both stared down at their own hands like teenagers on a first date. The awkward silence stretched out between, charged with tension and awkwardness so thick it was almost palpable.
The ticking of the clock on the wall and rustle of clothing as they fidgeted with their clothes, fingers, and nails was deafening. And with each passing second, the small noises seemed to get louder and louder, until Zyan was on the brink of snapping.
He spoke up when he could no longer take it. "How have the last few years treated you?"
Carter shrugged without lifting his gaze from his lap. "It's been all right. The same-gender marriage thing was a nice surprise."
Zyan averted his gaze again and pressed his lips together. "I thought about calling you when I heard the news."
Carter shifted in his seat. "Me too."
Zyan inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face. "Okay, look." He turned to face Carter. "This is—this is really awkward, right? It's not just me?"
Carter chuckled. "It's definitely not just you." His eyes met Zyan's as he angled his body toward him. "I'd offer you some alcohol to make this easier, but Jess doesn't have any."
Zyan huffed a laugh. "The one situation I'd actually drink in, and this is what happens."
Carter's smile was no less breathtaking than it'd been when they'd first met.
Zyan couldn't help but stare. It almost hurt how much he'd missed this. He couldn't regret finding that letter and coming here, not even if everything went down the drain again. This sight alone, this small moment of honesty and obvious attempts to make each other feel better, was enough to make it all worth it.
He averted his eyes as he wet his lips. "I— When you showed up at my apartment. With Jessica and Ava. What I told you there, it was a lie. You know that, right?" He risked a glance and found Carter looking back at him. He looked hesitant.
"You'll need to be a little more specific."
Zyan shot him a suspicious look. "You just want me to spell it out for you, don't you?"
Carter's lips tipped back up into a smile. "Maybe."
Zyan rolled his eyes, but it was with fondness warming his chest. "I missed you, okay? It wasn't the same without you. And with how we left things…" He took a deep breath. "It was…tough. Especially the first few years."
"I know what you mean," Carter said softly.
"The nights were the hardest," Zyan mumbled. He wasn't even sure he wanted Carter to hear it. But then again, lacking transparency had been what had gotten them into this mess in the first place.
Carter was quiet for the longest time, yet the silence didn't feel as suffocating as it had before. It was still charged, filled with anticipation and words unspoken, with history and uncertainty, but there was a glimmer of hope and possibility that grew with each passing moment.
"Did you believe me?" Carter said finally.
"About what?"
"What I said before I left. Last time we spoke."
Zyan stared at the rug under his feet. "I don't think that's something you would lie about."
"I wouldn't. Never."
Zyan nodded but couldn't bring himself to look up.
"I wasn't with Aaron to replace you." Carter sounded earnest. "I didn't go out looking for a rebound lover or distraction. I'd never planned to fall for him, but it happened, and I-I can't give you numbers or statistics to measure how much I loved him compared to you because feelings can't be measured, but…just because he meant a lot to me doesn't mean I loved you any less for it. I always cared about you, even while I was with him, but what I felt for him was real and I won't deny that."
"It's okay, Carter." Zyan looked up to meet eyes burning with intensity. "We weren't together, and you fell in love. I have no right to judge you or blame you for that. It wasn't right to project my insecurities on you. You didn't deserve that. I hurt you. I hurt both of us. Aaron, he-he was a huge part of your life. I never meant to make you feel guilty for that. I'm sorry."
"You didn't. And it's okay. It was a long time ago."
"Not in the grand scheme of things."
"I'm just glad we got to talk it out. Even if it took us a long time to get here."
Zyan huffed a laugh. "Well, we got all the time in the world to do better."
Carter smiled. "We do."
Zyan looked from him to the screen mounted on a sideboard. It'd been playing on mute that entire time, but he'd been too preoccupied to pay it any attention. "Were you really watching crime shows before I got here?"
He could see Carter turn his head to follow his gaze. He didn't seem surprised by the rapid change of topic. "They can be fun."
"Very much debatable."
"You love X-Files and Fringe," Carter pointed out.
"Those don't count."
"Ah, no, I think they do."
"No, they don't."
"Believe what you will," Carter said. "But I'm at least half-right."
Zyan narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"Oh, look at the time. Criminal Minds is about to start!"
"I literally don't care."
"If you sit through the episode with me, you'll get to pick what we watch next."
"Part of me already regrets coming here." Carter turned to look at him. "That-that was a joke." Zyan bit his tongue. "I'm not good at this."
Carter's lips tugged up in a smile. "How about we stop talking for a moment and you help me put this thing here back into a couch?"
Zyan nodded quickly. "Yeah, let's do that."
"And I won't make you sit through an entire episode."
"Oh, thank god."
*~*~*
Hours passed, throughout which a gentle and comfortable atmosphere built between them. Conversation was sparse, but casual and teasing, reminiscent of all the times they'd gotten to relearn each other after past divorces.
They were discussing lunch options when the jingling of keys unlocking the door had them turn and look up.
It was Ava. She didn't bother to check who was there before her annoyed and stressed-out voice flooded the room. "Oh my god, Carter, I think I just lost all faith in humanity." Zyan watched her toe off her shoes and rifle through her backpack. "I mean, the guts some of these people have! We've got the racists, the sexists, and sometimes even a lovely combination of the two. And then there are those guys that pretend to be immensely and excessively brainless just to get a small discount, which my spineless manager always gives them because he hates confrontation.
"I found it hard to believe at first, but some people actually are that lazy. They force me to run all over the store, even after I explained a hundred fucking times that no, you do not need a triangular sharpener because the pencil is triangular—how would you even twist the pencil, I mean…?"
She threw up her arms before her shoulders drooped. After a soul-deep sigh of frustration had left her, Ava finally turned and noticed Carter was not alone.
She froze. Her eyes widened noticeably. "Zyan? Is this…?" She trailed off each time, as if even she didn't know what she wanted to say. "Would you like some privacy? Because I could go home, if you'd like."
"No," Zyan replied. "You can stay."
Ava didn't seem convinced. She remained rooted in place.
"Really," Carter reassured her. "Stay."
Ava looked back and forth between them before she offered a small nod and took off her jacket. She dropped it on the sideboard by the door before she cautiously approached them and settled on the free armchair near the kitchen doorway.
Since he sat closest to her, Zyan could practically see the questions pile up in her mind.
"So…what're you doing here?" Ava's gaze was zeroed in on Zyan, observant, as if she expected him to lie.
"Paying a visit to Carter," Zyan answered.
Ava raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. But why? Did something happen, or did you just want to say goodbye before you move to another continent?" She was upset, that much was clear.
Every last remnant of lingering doubt left Zyan. He knew he'd made the right call. Coming here, renewing his contract—he'd barely dodged another huge mistake. "No. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, but you know how I hate cellphones."
Ava huffed a breath. "You'd think as a web designer you and modern technology would get along better," she mumbled.
"We do. I just don't like cell phones…or rather, all phones."
Carter snorted. "You should have been there when they were first invented," he told Ava.
"Anyway," Zyan cut in before she could respond. "I extended my contract. I'll be staying for at least another six months."
Ava's eyes widened. "What? But you said…I thought…" She looked like she was trying to gather her thoughts. "Are you serious? I try to convince you to stay and all you do is be a dick, and then you get, what? One 'please' from the pretty boy, and you immediately drop everything and obey?"
"You think I'm pretty?"
"It wasn't like that," Zyan said, ignoring Carter.
"Then what happened? What made you change your mind?" Ava crossed her arms in defiance.
"I'll tell you when you come over this evening, okay?" Zyan promised.
The nod that followed looked reluctant. "Okay."
"And I'm sorry," Zyan said. "For how I treated you. You didn't deserve that. You were just trying to help." He tilted his head as he saw her defiance melt. "Forgive me?"
Ava dropped her arms. "Fine. But you better bake me a nice cake for my next birthday."
Zyan nodded. "Triple chocolate?"
The corners of Ava's lips twitched. "You know me so well."
Zyan felt Carter sink deeper into the cushions next to him. "You guys are making me hungry."
"I feel your pain," Ava said. "But I'm sure Jessie-the-health-nut doesn't have cake in her fridge, let alone the triple-chocolate kind."
"We could pay a visit to the bakery down the street," Carter offered.
"Only if you get out of those pajama pants first." Zyan looked down at the beige cotton, covered in hundreds of small penguins in scarves and Santa hats. "Those aren't even seasonally appropriate."
Carter huffed. He got up and mumbled an "I'll be right back" before he disappeared into the bathroom.
"He forgot to get spare clothes," Zyan commented as he looked at the closed door Carter had just disappeared through. Two seconds later, it opened again to reveal a now-shirtless Carter, who stuttered a few words and darted through another door. When he reappeared, it was with an armful of clothes he took with him back into the bathroom, his shoulders hunched and head lowered as if it would make him invisible.
"While he's getting ready, are you at least gonna give me a quick summary of what I missed?"
Zyan shrugged. "I knocked at the door, we talked, and then we talked some more, and then you showed up."
She didn't look remotely satisfied with his answer.
"Okay, fine. We made some confessions, talked about Aaron and our last divorce, then I apologized, and we moved on to some lighter topics. After that, it was just us watching crappy TV. If you hadn't shown up, we'd be getting lunch right now. That's all."
"It's three in the afternoon."
"I know. We lost track of time."
Ava smiled. "Aw, that's adorable."
Zyan rolled his eyes, even as his lips tugged up. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We're nowhere near the going-out stage. At least not yet."
"Not yet?" Ava teased.
"Don't read too much into that."
"I'm just so happy for you!" Ava titled her head, eyes bright with fondness. "How're you feeling? You think you can go back to how it was?"
"I'm not sure I want to," Zyan admitted. "If we just pick up where we left off, we'll get right back into our old rut, and we saw how that went. More than once."
"What's the plan? Become friends first?"
"For now? I'll just go with the flow. Overthinking things was what screwed us over last time, and I don't think any of us want a repetition of that."
"Touché."
"I'm ready!" Carter reemerged from the bathroom dressed in black, with only a few splashes of color on his jacket and t-shirt. Zyan recognized the necklace and some of the bracelets he wore and felt the memories of roaming markets and small shops together resurface.
He had to tear his gaze away as he stood up. Ava was quick to join him, while Carter haphazardly discarded his pajamas in the room he'd gotten his current outfit from.
After they'd tugged on their shoes, they gathered in the hallway while Carter locked the door.
"You think Jessie's gonna judge me if I get an entire cake for myself?" Ava mused.
"If you manage to eat the entire thing at once, I think she'd be impressed." Carter slipped the keys into his pocket and nudged them toward the stairs.
"I wouldn't recommend it, though," Zyan put in.
"Speaking from personal experience?" Ava asked as she followed him down the first flight of stairs.
"He is," Carter answered. "We lived beside a bakery in Switzerland for a few years back in the early fifties because Zyan was obsessed with Kägi-fret and he claimed the imported stuff wasn't as good. The owners took a liking to us, and baked Zyan this two-layer cake for his birthday and, apparently, he thought it'd be a good idea to eat half the thing in one go. It wasn't. He was lying in bed with a stomach ache all evening."
Zyan remembered that. They'd gotten divorced two months later. And little over a decade after, they'd found themselves in Wales, where Carter had met Aaron. He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that right now.
"Well, well, Zyan," Ava said teasingly. "Look how I'm starting to get all this dirt on you." She wrapped an arm around Carter's waist, most likely because she was too short to reach his shoulders. "You and I, Carter, are gonna be the best of friends. I can feel it."
Carter chuckled.
"Oh, joy," Zyan deadpanned.
Ava grinned at him and grabbed his wrist to pull him closer just as they reached the front door. "Come on, Zyan. Lighten up, buddy! We're getting cake!"
"After he dug up that memory for me, I'm somehow not too eager about that anymore."
"Don't be such a killjoy!" Carter said. "Even after five hours of nausea, you still ate the rest of the cake for breakfast the next day."
Ava laughed. "I'm loving this. We should hang out more, Carter."
"Oh, joy," Zyan repeated and followed them out the door. Seeing them with their arms around each other made something in his heart unclench. He never thought he'd get to see the day where those two parts of his life collided. It felt symbolic—his past and his present uniting. He'd always thought it would be scary, daunting, to have Carter crash back into his life and worming his way into what Zyan had built for himself. And it had been, admittedly, but now as Ava prodded Carter for details about Zyan's "wild youth," it felt natural. It felt like surrendering a fight for the sake of peace.
He let Ava drag him back to her side again, as his doubts and worries faded to the back of his mind. He deserved a few hours of lighthearted fun with the two most important people in his life.