it’s a given…”
Andrew shudders. Where is Milo going with this?
“But you promise we’re still friends?”
It’s through incredible strength that Andrew keeps his eyes open, smile on and resentment boiling invisibly inside. In five minutes Milo has turned everything around, and, silly dreamer that Andrew is, he gave himself three minutes to hope against all hope. It’s not Milo’s fault Andrew is so hopelessly in love. And that sharp, ugly spike slicing Andrew’s insides isn’t Milo’s fault either.
“ Duh .” Andrew takes a breath and offers Milo a genuine smile. They’re still a ways from their destination, and it’s quiet in the car, mostly. It doesn’t take long for Andrew to realize the barbs spreading inside are a combination of jealousy, bitterness and anger. Why ? Why does this have to happen? The biggest reason he’s used to comfort the ache of being in love with Milo was Milo’s inability to reciprocate his feelings. Only now that’s a barrier removed and still Andrew is no closer to getting what he most wants.
So now Andrew has to recalibrate. In this version of his life, Milo is gay, but still only wants to be friends. Milo’s friendship might leave him longing for something more, but not with anyone else. Andrew doesn’t want that love with anyone else. It’s not that he’s settling for only friendship. Andrew’s always thought that loving someone involved longing for something more. At least with Milo, Andrew will always want more from the person he loves the most.
°
“So I did my research,” Milo says as they approach the city. “What do you feel like? Dancing? Sitting around? A drag show?”
Andrew snorts in a laugh and shoots him a look. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know. I’m here for the ride. Just wanna take it in.”
“Okay.” Andrew thinks. “Dancing.”
Milo feels his eyebrow jump up, but doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip and when he glances over at Andrew he sees a small vibration in his shoulders. “Well, you are a natural, just ask that poor lamp—”
Andrew bursts out laughing, smacking the back of his hand against Milo’s arm. “We swore we’d never speak of it again.”
“No, you did. I did no such thing.”
Andrew gasps. “Oh my god, you liar! You’re the one who broke the lamp, not me! You made me swear never to say anything so my mom wouldn’t know.”
“But realistically—” Milo says through laughter, then stops laughing for a moment to breathe. “Can we talk about the fact that your mom had just been in the room, laughed at us and gone downstairs? I am sure she heard that lamp break as soon as she left.”
“This is not the point.” Andrew crosses his legs. “The point is it is a thing we don’t speak of for fear of hurting your delicate feelings about your complete, furniture destroying, inability to dance—”
“Mine! Oh my go—”
“You’ve always been so shy about your skills,” Andrew says, gasping for breath. “Oh god, you have to stop; I might cry.”
They trip over each other’s words and laughter. Milo’s smile is face-splitting—not just from one of his favorite memories, but because this moment is shimmering; it’s perfect. It’s them: Andrew catching the giggles the way he does, and Milo holding back his own laughter over a memory of a day no one else would see the humor in.
“Given your unfortunate skills, dancing was not what I expected. Ow!” Milo rubs his arm where Andrew poked it. “You are a menace!” He grabs Andrew’s knee and squeezes hard, making Andrew squeal and flail.
“Stop! Stop, stop . I’ll pee.” Andrew laughs. Milo stops, finally. “Oh my god, Milo, you can’t tickle someone while driving; we’ll end up dead!” Andrew says, catching his breath.
“Not my fault,” Milo singsongs.
“Uh…”
“Well, maybe it would be a little my fault.”
Andrew opens the car window, letting cool air rattle in suddenly, then closes it just as quickly. “I wanted
Andrew shudders. Where is Milo going with this?
“But you promise we’re still friends?”
It’s through incredible strength that Andrew keeps his eyes open, smile on and resentment boiling invisibly inside. In five minutes Milo has turned everything around, and, silly dreamer that Andrew is, he gave himself three minutes to hope against all hope. It’s not Milo’s fault Andrew is so hopelessly in love. And that sharp, ugly spike slicing Andrew’s insides isn’t Milo’s fault either.
“ Duh .” Andrew takes a breath and offers Milo a genuine smile. They’re still a ways from their destination, and it’s quiet in the car, mostly. It doesn’t take long for Andrew to realize the barbs spreading inside are a combination of jealousy, bitterness and anger. Why ? Why does this have to happen? The biggest reason he’s used to comfort the ache of being in love with Milo was Milo’s inability to reciprocate his feelings. Only now that’s a barrier removed and still Andrew is no closer to getting what he most wants.
So now Andrew has to recalibrate. In this version of his life, Milo is gay, but still only wants to be friends. Milo’s friendship might leave him longing for something more, but not with anyone else. Andrew doesn’t want that love with anyone else. It’s not that he’s settling for only friendship. Andrew’s always thought that loving someone involved longing for something more. At least with Milo, Andrew will always want more from the person he loves the most.
°
“So I did my research,” Milo says as they approach the city. “What do you feel like? Dancing? Sitting around? A drag show?”
Andrew snorts in a laugh and shoots him a look. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know. I’m here for the ride. Just wanna take it in.”
“Okay.” Andrew thinks. “Dancing.”
Milo feels his eyebrow jump up, but doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip and when he glances over at Andrew he sees a small vibration in his shoulders. “Well, you are a natural, just ask that poor lamp—”
Andrew bursts out laughing, smacking the back of his hand against Milo’s arm. “We swore we’d never speak of it again.”
“No, you did. I did no such thing.”
Andrew gasps. “Oh my god, you liar! You’re the one who broke the lamp, not me! You made me swear never to say anything so my mom wouldn’t know.”
“But realistically—” Milo says through laughter, then stops laughing for a moment to breathe. “Can we talk about the fact that your mom had just been in the room, laughed at us and gone downstairs? I am sure she heard that lamp break as soon as she left.”
“This is not the point.” Andrew crosses his legs. “The point is it is a thing we don’t speak of for fear of hurting your delicate feelings about your complete, furniture destroying, inability to dance—”
“Mine! Oh my go—”
“You’ve always been so shy about your skills,” Andrew says, gasping for breath. “Oh god, you have to stop; I might cry.”
They trip over each other’s words and laughter. Milo’s smile is face-splitting—not just from one of his favorite memories, but because this moment is shimmering; it’s perfect. It’s them: Andrew catching the giggles the way he does, and Milo holding back his own laughter over a memory of a day no one else would see the humor in.
“Given your unfortunate skills, dancing was not what I expected. Ow!” Milo rubs his arm where Andrew poked it. “You are a menace!” He grabs Andrew’s knee and squeezes hard, making Andrew squeal and flail.
“Stop! Stop, stop . I’ll pee.” Andrew laughs. Milo stops, finally. “Oh my god, Milo, you can’t tickle someone while driving; we’ll end up dead!” Andrew says, catching his breath.
“Not my fault,” Milo singsongs.
“Uh…”
“Well, maybe it would be a little my fault.”
Andrew opens the car window, letting cool air rattle in suddenly, then closes it just as quickly. “I wanted
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