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“He is special. To me, Casseth.”

Lithian shut his eyes, wincing in spite of himself as he leaned against the rail before him. The ocean breezes that cut across his cheeks — usually welcome and soothing — did little for him, for once, his internal turmoil overriding appreciation for the ambiance of the sea.

“He must be. What with you changing your plans for him, and all, and not giving your friends warning. Seems like you go out of your way to bend over backwards for him sometimes.”

“Whether or not I bend over for him is none of your business…”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“No? Because you do seem very touchy about the subject—”

“Lithian—”

“Would it bother you, if I did?”

He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, shoving at the thoughts in an attempt to usher them away. Though headed back towards the Celestial Plane, now, his last encounter with his best friend had been…complicated, at best. There was a new, budding hope in his chest for something he had never before dared to hope for. But also guilt. Guilt like a knot in his gut temporarily dominated everything else, because no matter his feelings — long standing as they were — Vyren, whose company he had shared intimately for months now, deserved better.

“You’ve never been comfortable with it, have you? You’ve always taken issue with it, and I’m sorry Casseth…alright? I’m sorry, that I don’t fit into the boxes you expect me to, but I can’t help it. I tried to change, to be different, to be…normal — whatever that is. But it didn’t work, do you understand? I tried. So. Hard. I prayed every day to Abronaxus and most every night for weeks, months…this is part of who I am.”

“Lith—”

“And I am bending over for him, Cas. We sleep together. We. ********. Does that upset you? He cares about me, just as you care about Venara or Vanera, or…Verana — whatever her name is — and whether we continue down the path we’re on is none of your business. I hope—I…would hope…that it won’t ruin our friendship for me to be this way…but if I disgust you that much…”

It hadn’t been that.

In retrospect, Lithian wondered if he was — as Casseth had accused at the time — ‘stupid’ for not seeing it. “It should be me that touches you.” That is what Casseth had said in the end. After telling him how much he hated the thought of anyone else’s hands on him, how sometimes, he imagined himself in their place. How he loved him.

That had set Lithian off.

On the one hand, they were words he had dreampt of hearing for longer than he cared to admit, but at the same time, the whole of every experience he had ever shared with Casseth showed that his friend was interested in girls. And only girls. He had had no hint that Cas might ever want anything more than a friendship with him and by the gods he had worked hard to abide by that and not overstep his boundaries.

But then, in this most recent bout of anger, he had done magnificently on that front.

As his mind flit back of his own accord to the incident — what it had felt like to push his friend to the wall, to drag him in and have Casseth’s lips against his for the first time in his life — his cheeks flared, heat — and guilt, again — warring together in his gut. He oughtn’t have. Even though it had went better than he could have possibly imagined; even though Casseth had kissed back—

He oughtn’t have.

He should have just said something, not reacted so instinctively. Now, as things stood, it left him with words heavy on his tongue for Vyren that he did not want to speak. Because he did care about the man. How could he not, after the trust he had put in him and their many hours together? How kindly Vyren had treated him, despite seeming a naturally more spirited sort?

Lithian sighed, a withering, frustrated exhale as his shoulders sank and he shoved a hand back through his hair, eyes shutting. “Just tell the truth, Lithian,” he murmured to himself and no one, sagging against the boat’s railing. “All you can do for him now is tell the truth. You set yourself up for this…”

While he managed, by the end of the trip, to have gathered up a decent amount of nerve, when it came time to actually approach Vyren’s residence and seek him out, ‘courage’ became a rapidly dwindling resource, and Lithian felt like a fish moving further and further away from water. He hesitated with a raised fist before the door of the other’s house, willing himself to make contact.

‘Abronaxus, give me strength.’

He knocked.

Thump, thump, thump.

Lithian thought, in the first moment that the door opened, that his pulse might well beat its way out of his throat with raw nerves. But, he forced his mouth open, figuring that the best way to do this was likely just—

On seeing Vyren, his mind wiped itself momentarily blank, tongue sticking uselessly to the bottom of his mouth. The man looked so happy, and Lithian’s own expression, on instinct, responded to that, warming with a hesitant smile at the edges as — despite his better judgment — he stepped in. “Vyren,” he said, “I—”

Then, his eyes caught on the scene laid out.

A meal, set out. Flowers. An entire set up, clearly carefully planned and put together. For him. His heart lurched, pinching in on itself as his guilt resurfaced tenfold and gathered like a tight, growing lump in his throat. If he made any sound aloud, however, it was — thankfully? — muted when Vyren stepped in, pulling him close and—

“Wait, Vyren,” he blurted, “I need t—mmmh…tell you…some…” Lithian’s lashes flit shut, and whatever he might have thought or said meshed instead into the pressing, familiar warmth of Vyren’s kiss. In a moment of raw weakness, he let himself sink into it.

He knew he ought to have pushed, ought to have insisted and spoken up immediately, didn’t deserve any more kisses at this point. Or anything else, for that matter, since he had already taken more from Vyren than he ought. But another part of him was desperate for the comfort and ever-wanting of the contact. His body, of course, responded readily, and a part of his heart, too, wanted only to savor this moment and keep Vyren happy for as long as possible. That part dictated that his fingers clutch, catching at Vyren’s hips and shivering as he kissed back.

‘I need to tell you something. I need to tell you something. I need to tell you something.’ At the first moment the kiss broke, Lithian opened his mouth. ‘I kissed someone else.’

“The flowers…are beautiful.”

This was going to be even more difficult than he anticipated.

Lithian blinked, startled at first just after sitting, and then laughing lightly in spite of himself, his eyes warming with amusement. “So you did make it?” he asked. “I knew you were a cook…” Lifting a utensil, he flushed, hesitating. He oughtn’t eat; he needed to say something. “I would have spoiled such a thing utterly,” was all that came out. “And I have tried. I’ve been assured by reliable sources that I’m an atrocious cook, so…” Abashedly, Lithian gave up for the moment and took a bite, humming in approval and surprised in spite of himself. It was very good. “It’s delicious,” he said aloud. “And, I…ah…I’ve been…”

‘…kissing other people. Specifically hybrids. Specifically my best friend…’

He eyed his soup, spoon hovering just above the surface.

“I’ve been well. And you?”

Lithian flushed, gut sinking further with the latter words, but forced his expression to stay warm, for the moment as best he could manage. He knew part of it was entirely selfish — guilt and procrastination making him put off the inevitable — but it seemed critically wrong somehow, to break up such a carefully prepared and well-crafted meal, particularly when his — boyfriend? — was in such a good mood.

So, he left it. For now.

He made casual conversation and buried his concerns for the course of the meal, focussing on how much he did appreciate Vyren’s company and letting that steer him. He had missed the firani, too, and said so, and from there, things flowed — he thought — fairly well, all things considered. As the meal tended towards a close, however, Lithian knew he would have to say something and fidgetted over his words mentally as he helped the other clean up. When things were mostly clear, he forced the words out.

“Vyren, there’s…something actually…happened…while, er…” He tucked his fingers through his hair, guiding some behind his ear. “While I was on Eowyn…”

Lithian’s gut sank, as though part of him had still clung to the hope that the moment would never actually be upon him to speak. But there was no avoiding it now. And even if there was, he owed more to Vyren than that. He owed him the truth. That knowledge and mental conviction did not make forcing his tongue to move or his throat to open any easier. When he did speak, his voice was small.

“I…kissed someone—I got into an arguement with a friend of mine—” At this point, Lithian’s voice rose, but also sped up, words all but tripping over each other, “—I don’t even remember exactly how it started but I hadn’t seen him for a while and we were talking about you and how I spend so much time with you on the Plane and about how I cared about you and I do care about you and I thought he was disgusted with me for sleeping with men because he always seemed so angry or upset or cross with me whenever the subject came up and I was upset with him and I told so and I told him about us and he said that he wasn’t angry at me about any of that at all even though he’d never given me any reason to suspect otherwise but because he wanted to be the one with me and touching me and I thought he was mocking me and I was upset so Ipushedhimintoawallandkissedhim—and then I realized that I was an awful person because you don’t deserve that and you never did anything to begin to merit that and I am so…sorry…but…I…”

Lithian’s fingers were shaking. He folded them together, wincing and diverting his eyes — away, and down. His voice when he spoke again was nearly as quiet as it had been at the outset.

“You deserve better…and I am sure you can find better. I…think we should…go separate ways at…least in terms of romance…”

“Yes.”

Lithian’s voice was hoarse, his arms folding in on themselves despite his best efforts, and it wasn’t fair to be upset with the other boy — whoever he was, he didn’t know him — but he shouldn’t be here. His chest hurt. His gut roiled. His eyes stung, and it wasn’t fair. Yes he had done wrong but it wasn’t any of this person’s business and the last thing he wanted was to leave Vyren on terms like this — without a chance to talk, without a chance to apologize, properly, without a chance to explain, however useless explanations would be at this point.

“Yes…it is a very bad…time.” He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t a child, and there was company. He squeezed his eyes shut, releasing a shuddered exhale. “Please come back later…I am…sure I will be gone soon enough.”

He could deal with Vyren angry with him. He expected that hurt, had earned that hurt, and would face up to it as was due, but this — the ill-timed company of a stranger — was not earned and not welcome. Surely, he at least deserved the privacy to resolve his issues without it?

Lithian stiffened.

Like a cold stone his gut sank, his guilt pressed down by a new surge of convoluted emotions: shame, anger, hurt, and ragged disbelief. This is how Vyren wanted it to be? After months together, after one honest admittance he wanted to shame him and drag their issue out in front of a stranger — who he had just instructed to sit in his bedroom?

The look he leveled Vyren with was stinging, glossy with unshed tears, but equally sharp with accusing disbelief. “Nowhere, apparently,” he murmured. “Enjoy your evening…and sorry to waste you and your friend’s time.” With a stiff dip of a bow, he turned, making to leave the room, fingers folded to keep from shaking.

He wanted to speak with Vyren. Wanted to apologize further. Wanted…some form of closure on the issue. But he was not going to be made a fool of. Not going to be mocked and dragged through muck and have their argument — their private confrontation — dragged out in front of a complete stranger. It hurt to feel that so quickly, Vyren wanted to do that to him.

Lithian stalled, body going rigid as Vyren’s fingers closed around his arm. At the next words to leave the man’s mouth, his breath left him in a quick, sharp exhale, eyes narrowing and — unfortunately, if he cared about his pride at this point — dislodging several tears in the process. It was all he could do not to jerk from his hold. But then, Vyren was letting go anyway, and speaking again.

Throat knotted, stinging, and tense, he found words useless, and instead gave a small, mute nod before stepping forward and through, over the threshold and past Vyren without a word. He moved well into the gym, putting as much space between himself and the stranger as he could. Even this felt wrong. Why was Vyren making the poor man wait? None of this was his business. Why couldn’t he just have let him leave for a pause, and then fetched him after? Dragging him into this at all felt like a slap in the face, as though Vyren wanted to show off what a fool he had been and make an example of it…

But the privacy, at least, was something. Lithian wanted to be truly alone with him, to solve the issue without the looming presence of anyone. At this point, however, that seemed an impossibility, and he supposed — in the end — it was his mistake to live with, and he did not get to choose all his circumstances. He waited until the door had been shut behind them, closing he and Vyren into the space before speaking. Even then, his voice was quiet, his eyes lowered, chin dipped, and arms folded — not angrily so much anymore, but protectively around himself, as though cold.

“This is no one’s business but ours…” he murmured. “And I apologized—I will apologize again, and again, a thousand times if that is what would please you—I will get on my knees and tell you that you did not deserve what I did to you because you did not and I know you did not, you were always kind to me, and I cared for you—I care for you…” His voice shook, his volume having increased over the period of the speech but dropping again, quieter, before he continued. “But it is a private matter and I will not have my face spat in in front of a man I do not know—my wrong is on you alone…and it is not his part to be in it…” He lifted his gaze, eyeing Vyren underhandedly from beneath wet lashes. “Shall I get on my knees…? I do not expect your forgiveness, just…” He breathed out. “I want you to believe the truth, which is that…however hollow the words may sound in retrospect, I did not intend to hurt you…and I enjoyed all the time we spent together…and am grateful that I had it with you.”