my nephews got a new, better hearing aid. And I haven’t embarrassed myself around you enough yet to run you off.” He chose Darjeeling after staring blankly at the box for a while. “Of course, you haven’t read my books.”
Cory was silent for so long Vincent lifted his head. Cory had his eyes closed and was smiling to himself. “Hmm.” He opened his eyes before Vincent could pretend he hadn’t been staring at him. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you own your books like that. Ricky really likes them, you know. He doesn’t read a lot but he’s read all of them. Be proud. Even if they’re terrible, which I seriously doubt, they’re your terrible books. I couldn’t make a terrible book if I tried. … I might be buzzed.” He drew his eyebrows together. “But I think you know what I mean.”
“I wasn’t trying to get you drunk!” Vincent protested and was happy the kettle began to whistle. He turned to finish making the tea.
He could practically hear the delighted grin in Cory’s voice. “Tomorrow is going to be great. You know what I’m thankful for?”
Vincent shook his head, then focused on bringing the steaming hot mug over to Cory.
Cory accepted it with two hands, then held Vincent’s gaze. “That I’ve got a job I like that pays the bills, even if it’s not earth-shattering. That I’ve got friends to spend the day with me when I thought I might end up alone. And, that after a year and a half, I find out that you are exactly as sweet as you look.”
The tiny amount of wine Vincent had swallowed would not have rendered him this flushed and dizzy. He made a noise, a croaking sort of denial, then drew in a breath and stared down. “I, no, I’m not… sweet really. I only want people to be happy. I… I should probably lay off the wine until the pies are done. It’s going to be a long day and you already think I’m strange enough, I bet.”
“You don’t have to kid me.” Cory was speaking absolute nonsense as far as Vincent could tell. “You don’t have to act like I don’t mean it. You can’t possibly not realize that I….” Cory went quiet for a worrying amount time. When he finally spoke, his voice was once again level. “Vincent, I have something to ask you later. But not right now. Not when I’ve had a drink on an empty stomach. I bet you won’t think I’m serious.” He blew on his tea and took a cautious sip although it hadn’t seeped for very long. “I should probably go before I get messy drunk and ruin your good image of me.” His momentary pauses were more intimidating when Vincent realized they indicated Cory was considering something and probably adjusting his plans. Cory went still. “Is that why?”
“Is that why, what?” Vincent wondered, struck by Cory’s surprised expression.
“Is that why you hurry off so quickly?” Cory was too smart. Vincent froze in very real terror, his heart racing, but Cory only blew on his tea again, almost absentmindedly. “I’ll be talking to you, and everything will be going all right, I think, but then you bolt. I used to think it was me. Then Ricky said you were notoriously attention-shy. But it’s more than shyness. That’s what you were trying to tell me before, weren’t you? It’s, um, anxiety, right? How much do you overthink everything, Vincent?”
“Too much,” Vincent confessed in a rush. The beast had been named; there was no point in denying it. “Everything. All the time.” Moving in fits and starts, rethinking decisions after they’d been made and mucking up situations worse with his second-guessing, that was his life. “It doesn’t leave a good impression.”
“It didn’t leave a bad one. Not to me.” Cory toyed with the string on the teabag but continued to hold Vincent’s gaze. “You’re trying not to do the wrong thing.”
If Vincent was a braver man, he would say, “With you.” And then Cory would pause in confusion, and Vincent would gaze at him significantly and add, “I
Cory was silent for so long Vincent lifted his head. Cory had his eyes closed and was smiling to himself. “Hmm.” He opened his eyes before Vincent could pretend he hadn’t been staring at him. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you own your books like that. Ricky really likes them, you know. He doesn’t read a lot but he’s read all of them. Be proud. Even if they’re terrible, which I seriously doubt, they’re your terrible books. I couldn’t make a terrible book if I tried. … I might be buzzed.” He drew his eyebrows together. “But I think you know what I mean.”
“I wasn’t trying to get you drunk!” Vincent protested and was happy the kettle began to whistle. He turned to finish making the tea.
He could practically hear the delighted grin in Cory’s voice. “Tomorrow is going to be great. You know what I’m thankful for?”
Vincent shook his head, then focused on bringing the steaming hot mug over to Cory.
Cory accepted it with two hands, then held Vincent’s gaze. “That I’ve got a job I like that pays the bills, even if it’s not earth-shattering. That I’ve got friends to spend the day with me when I thought I might end up alone. And, that after a year and a half, I find out that you are exactly as sweet as you look.”
The tiny amount of wine Vincent had swallowed would not have rendered him this flushed and dizzy. He made a noise, a croaking sort of denial, then drew in a breath and stared down. “I, no, I’m not… sweet really. I only want people to be happy. I… I should probably lay off the wine until the pies are done. It’s going to be a long day and you already think I’m strange enough, I bet.”
“You don’t have to kid me.” Cory was speaking absolute nonsense as far as Vincent could tell. “You don’t have to act like I don’t mean it. You can’t possibly not realize that I….” Cory went quiet for a worrying amount time. When he finally spoke, his voice was once again level. “Vincent, I have something to ask you later. But not right now. Not when I’ve had a drink on an empty stomach. I bet you won’t think I’m serious.” He blew on his tea and took a cautious sip although it hadn’t seeped for very long. “I should probably go before I get messy drunk and ruin your good image of me.” His momentary pauses were more intimidating when Vincent realized they indicated Cory was considering something and probably adjusting his plans. Cory went still. “Is that why?”
“Is that why, what?” Vincent wondered, struck by Cory’s surprised expression.
“Is that why you hurry off so quickly?” Cory was too smart. Vincent froze in very real terror, his heart racing, but Cory only blew on his tea again, almost absentmindedly. “I’ll be talking to you, and everything will be going all right, I think, but then you bolt. I used to think it was me. Then Ricky said you were notoriously attention-shy. But it’s more than shyness. That’s what you were trying to tell me before, weren’t you? It’s, um, anxiety, right? How much do you overthink everything, Vincent?”
“Too much,” Vincent confessed in a rush. The beast had been named; there was no point in denying it. “Everything. All the time.” Moving in fits and starts, rethinking decisions after they’d been made and mucking up situations worse with his second-guessing, that was his life. “It doesn’t leave a good impression.”
“It didn’t leave a bad one. Not to me.” Cory toyed with the string on the teabag but continued to hold Vincent’s gaze. “You’re trying not to do the wrong thing.”
If Vincent was a braver man, he would say, “With you.” And then Cory would pause in confusion, and Vincent would gaze at him significantly and add, “I
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