Björn had been missing for over a week (and being a ‘Missing Person’ in Destiny City was almost always news of the worst sort) and Colin feared the worst: his lover had either been killed or converted by the Negaverse and was now as dead to him (and to the world) as he could be. This was definitely not like when he and Björn’s schedules were in conflict and they didn’t see much of each other for days at a time - even at their busiest they made the effort to ‘touch base’ almost daily, or at least managed to get a few hours of sleep twined together. This was something different, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his lover in days…not even a text!
Colin was this close to putting in a missing person’s report with the cops.
When Anna called asking after her son, Colin knew he wasn’t being paranoid about Björn’s disappearance. He agreed to meet with her for coffee to discuss their mutual distress and fear(s) where her son was involved; the blond had been with her son for some time by that point and he cared deeply for both Anna and Björn. That neither had heard from him in days was a deeply worrying factor, though he did his best to stay calm about it.
And then, suddenly, signs of life: Their shared room had missing pieces. There was a note - a goddamned note - after ten days of nothing.
It was on the microwave when Colin got home: a tiny, quickly written note from Björn that read simply:
Surprise visit family in europe. Gone for november three. Keep safe both you. Miss you a lot.
Colin frowned and stared at the note, fingers slowly curling into tight fists at his sides. After everything, all the big lug did was leave a note for both Colin and Nischal, as though there were no difference between the two men. As though they didn’t cuddle, kiss or ********. As though there wasn’t a relationship there - no matter how strained it had gotten, didn’t he deserve more than some tiny goddamned after-thought?
With a snarl of barely-contained anger, the blond yanked the low-tack note from the tinted glass of the microwave and crumpled it before slamming his fist into the wall next to it with a rather loud “********!” It took him nearly a minute to figure out that the half-choking, sobbing sounds were coming from himself and another two minutes before he was able to wipe at his eyes and look around. The note was crumpled and torn, spattered with tears that blurred the letters from where he’d been holding it - within his fists - against his face. “Jesus Björn, you could’ve…told me…”
But what would he have said? Would Björn even have confided in him about what was making him distant; kept his smiles small and tight? Months ago, he would have said yes without hesitating…but now? Now Colin never knew if his lover would even be home to talk to, let alone anything else. It was hard, but they tried. He tried.
With the rush of relief at knowing that Björn was alive making his legs wobbly and uncertain paired with the hurt of being excluded from whatever he’d been doing, it didn’t occur to Colin to think about whether or not Nischal was in the apartment….or if he’d seen the note - or would even care. He sank to the floor and tucked his right hand against his chest, mouthing the already aching knuckles and staring at the note. Shorter than a Tweet and about as personal as a friend request on FaceBook.
Colin stayed on the kitchen floor until his phone buzzed against his thigh, startling him out of whatever reverie had kept him motionless. It was from his mom, asking after Björn. Of course he’d told her about his missing lover. Of course. He sent a short note back, letting her know he’d actually gone off to Europe to see family and then snapped his phone shut angrily, brow furrowing the way it tended to when he was contemplating doing something that would end badly. Björn deserved a piece of his mind, for doing this…but…at the same time, he had to admit it wasn’t like the big blond at all. There had to be a reason for it all.
A reason he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - tell Colin.
Which hurt, he wouldn’t deny it, but it didn’t mean that Björn had done it on purpose or deserved to be flogged for it. Deciding that he’d wait to ask Björn what the hell had happened before making any rash decisions, Colin picked himself up off the floor and went to take a shower. Dress. Get something to eat. Once he was calmer, he sent a text to Björn - short also, just letting him know he’d gotten the message.
Glad you’re alive. See you in Nov. It was short and angry and the letters formed sharp, defiant angles to show his displeasure. Colin was satisfied for about fifteen seconds, then he relented and sent another, less sharp text: I missed you. A lot. Take care and come back, okay? You’re a jerk for worrying me like that, you know. xoxo
Whether or not he got a reply didn’t really matter, not in the bigger scheme of things. He knew very well that it was hard for Björn to do much with most phones thanks to those massive paws of his, let alone tap out multiple paragraph long texts to explain difficult situations, but the big guy always read his messages. That was the important part. That his guy would see the words and understand them, know that Colin had been absolutely terrified for him (or you know, at least upset enough to be angry after).
And when he got back…well, Colin would contemplate that later. He had time, after all.
Quite a bit of time, before the third of November rolled around...
Word Count: 1,032
