Inevitable V

A squirrel chattered angrily at me as I rushed past his home.  I was so panicked and goddamn sad that I nearly chattered back at it.  But I just climbed higher, cursing myself as I dug my claws into the tree.  God but I was an idiot…!!  What the hell was that?!  I'd practically climbed into his shirt!  Why?!

It was loneliness.  And severe lack of…  I swallowed hard.  I was going to lose my best—yeah, my best friend.  Because I had gone too long without—never mind.  Shut up.

Van was a Virgin, as much as he tried to act like he didn't deserve the capital letter.  He wasn't pious or worried about it, he just seemed like he was content to wait.  And I knew exactly who he was waiting for.  That damn uppity bastard with green hair and a dumb big mouth.

Fuming about that took my mind off how stupid I had acted earlier, so I went with it.  What a slimy selfish jerk.  Calling so late after ignoring Van all day.  How often did he call, anyway?  If Van called me or even just brought it up every time—which I guessed he did—then the answer was 'not often enough'.  More to the point, his last phone call had not sounded good from the end I could hear.  "Don't," I quoted to myself.  "Not over the phone…"  There were a lot of things that Aud had told me you didn't say over the phone.

Had he tried to break up with him?!  I glared up at the clear night sky.  He must have.  First he ran off to another county, probably cheated like a crazed maniac, and finally topped it off with a "Let's just be friends" speech over the phone.  On Van's birthday.

Oh fuck, his birthday.  I'd pulled the fuckup of all time on his birthday.  Worse, it was the only one he'd ever had with just me as company.  I groaned and squashed my face into my hand, my tail whipping about like a gnashing second head.  First Aud Rose, and now Van…  Why did I have to screw up every good thing that happened to me?

He'd looked so thunderstruck.  With my eyes squeezed shut, it was easy to reconstruct the scene.  The way he'd smelled, vanilla that had gone into the cupcakes somehow lingering over him… how surprisingly soft his skin was…  My knees started to feel loose and disconnected.  I'd seen him without a shirt before, plenty of times, but I'd never really looked looked, or-or thought about t-touching—I gave myself such a hard shake I nearly fell out of the tree.

The look on his face was still burned into my head.  Quiet and terrified at the same time, his lips parted, the blue hair streaking over his eyes and cheeks…  I had to shake myself again.  He must have been trying to figure out how to tell me to get the hell off of him.  Van wasn't an idiot, he would have seen right through me.  He would have known I was just a lonely, horny piece of shit.

If only he was…

What?  If only he was a girl?  And then what, you dumbass?  He'd still be pissed at me for acting like… like that.  It wasn't fair.  I hopped out of the tree and sent my tail and claws back out of sight.  No, no, I had to get past this.  I didn't really have anyone else.  There was Al, of course, but he'd never even met Van, and if I tried to really talk to him about serious stuff… it wasn't the same.  Van listened as if I were somebody important saying things that mattered.  And then he'd know what to do, a lot of the time.  Not as often as Aud Rose, but way more often than I ever did.

I ran back to his apartment.  He needed a friend right now, if I was right about that phone call.  And I had to explain about…  I just had to explain.  He would understand, he always understood me eventually.  For the most part.  When he wasn't hell bent on staying mad at me.  Fuck.

Rapping on his door, I considered my options.  There was only the one, so it didn't take long.  I'd explain, hope he'd forgive me right away, and then join him in a character assassination of his stupid ex with the stupid hair.

The door creaked slowly open, and Van popped his head out.  His hair was disheveled, the blue strands intermingling with the black and covering one eye.  "Cayn?"

Whatever confidence I'd had evaporated.  I stood where a welcome mat had never been and tried to swallow enough air to allow me to speak.  "Can I—can I come in?"

He leaned on the door, the tails of his bathrobe sash swinging.  "It's 3:00am, Oie."

Oh.  Shit.  No wonder he was wearing an open bathrobe and pajama bottoms.  I'd woken him up in the middle of the—how long had I been in that tree?!  "I'm sorry," I said automatically.  "Can I come in anyway?"

He pulled the door open and stepped aside, stifling a yawn.  I ducked in, hunching my shoulders before he even shut the door.  After he had, he locked it, then sat on the couch.  "What do you need?"

As if nothing had happened.  I wanted to take the bone he'd offered so much it made my teeth hurt, but I couldn't be that rotten to him.  "I don't want to lose you."  Goddammit, why did it have to come out like that?

He leaned over the back of the couch, pillowing his chin on his arms.  "What makes you think that might happen?"  He sounded so… indifferent.  It scared me.  That blank look of mild, fickle interest, I'd never seen him point it at me, ever.

"Earlier, I—I didn't mean…"

There.  Something flashed in his eyes, something alive and passionate.  At first I had no idea what it was, but then I blinked and realized it must be anger.  He scratched the side of his nose and seemed to be trying to regain his blank face.  "What didn't you mean?"

"I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea."  The words came out haltingly, like a long cough.

He laughed, startling me.  It was not a nice kind of laugh.  "Why would you be worried about that?  Nothing happened."  His voice sounded hollow.

I trudged on, determined to fix things and make him stop acting like the world was ending.  Even though that was how I felt…  "I-I know, but it might've."  I took a painfully deep breath.  "I'm sorry—"

"Stop apologizing!!"  The shout seemed to drain the rest of his energy.  He turned to lay down on the couch, slipping almost out of my sight.  "You did nothing.  It meant nothing.  I get it.  Spin on."

Nothing was working…!  I wheeled around to sit on the couch, next to his bare feet.  "What did Christian say to you?"  I hadn't meant to change the subject, but if I hadn't, I just would have apologized again.

He sat up and faced me, holding my gaze as though he had me by the neck.  The bathrobe had slid off one narrow shoulder, threatening to expose his arm and most of his back.  He looked so small to me then, small and lost.  "It's what he didn't say."

My stomach fell in sympathy.  "Did he…?"

"He tried to tell me…"  Van laughed that awful laugh again, softer this time.  "He tried to say he loves me."

If I'd been standing, then I would have had to sit down.  I slumped back into the couch, trying to fit this into the careful situation I'd thought I'd known.  "Isn't that," I gulped, "a good thing?"

"I don't want him to."

Something I couldn't identify tugged at my face, trying to make me smile.  I ignored it.  "But I thought you two were…"

"We were what?"

"D-dating."

He blinked at me, then reached up to rub the back of his neck.  "No, not exactly—maybe we came close, but it never happened.  You… really thought…?"  He shook his head and reached out to pinch my arm.  "Is that why you don't like him?"

I rubbed the pinched spot and shook my head so hard I ended up nodding.  "It—I…  It's just…  He never treats you right!"  The dam had just burst, I couldn't shut myself up if it meant my life.  "Even before he left, he never made time for you, and then he skipped off to another country!  He calls you about as often as my grandparents call me, he doesn't even pretend to be excited whenever you are—if it were me, I'd treat you better!"  I was shaking now.  "I mean, I go all sorts of places with you, I even try new weird stuff.  And when you care about something, I try to understand it!  Even when you started studying physics!"

"So what are you saying, I should date you?"

I bit my tongue so I wouldn't talk.  Talking was bad, talking got me in trouble.  Especially right now.  …so I whimpered instead.

Van pushed his hair out of his face and mumbled something.  "When you…  I want you to explain yourself.  In complete sentences, Cayn Arrowleaf."  The tone he used stung a little.

Could I do it?  I whimpered again.  "…I'm lonely.  It's been so long since I—it just really could have been anyone but it had to be you 'cause I'm a luckless bastard and I really need you to not be mad at me 'cause you're my best friend and I need to keep you around…!!"

Yeah, like that wouldn't make the whole thing a lot worse.

Van's eyes had widened a few times while I'd been talking, but when I finally shut myself up again, they narrowed to dangerous slits of glinting blue.  Then he knocked me onto my back.

The couch armrest cushioned my head, angling my face so that I could see the predator's calculating half-smile on Van's face.  He had a hand on my stomach, fingers spread out so that just breath tickled.  I bit back a stupid giggle and tried to find an explanation in his eyes.  All I could see was… confusion.  Fear.  Were they reflecting back at me, or was he the one scared and confused?  "Van…?"

"You would have done it with anyone?" he asked, pressing his hand down, then sliding it upwards.  A strangled squeak popped out of me like toothpaste squeezed out of a brand new tube.  Van moved his hand and lay on top of me, his nose touching mine.  "It really doesn't matter that it's me?"