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Two weeks.

Two weeks he had gone without properly kissing Hitch. Just a simple kiss here and there, a chaste press of their lips together while Tolliver had recovered. And while they didn’t necessarily need to kiss to do other things, Tolliver’s need for physical closeness and just his stupid love of kissing his boyfriend had led it to be a very, very long two weeks.

But the two weeks were up. He’d gotten the clear from his doctor and his piercer, both of whom had told him it was entirely all right to continue life now that everything was done. His piercing looked in excellent condition, it was clean and perfect in the middle of his tongue, and there was no pain, no nothing except the strange feel of it, which Tolliver was slowly getting used to. And he was more than a little excited to be able to finally - finally kiss Hitch properly now.

Except that wasn’t all he was excited about. Tolliver was planning several other things for his boyfriend, because as time had gone by, he’d realized just how much Hitch did take care of him, and how much Tolliver didn’t. He wasn’t doing much of anything except staying at home being terribly depressed and anxious all the time, and Hitch hadn’t pressured him into doing anything he didn’t want to do, quietly and gently doting on him. And while he seemed happy to do so, there was a gnawing sense of guilt in Tolliver’s stomach as the days went by.

So, on the day he was all cleared, a note was left for Hitch, who was asleep when Tolliver had snuck out. Taped to the fridge, it read:

Your presence is required at the Destiny City Grand Hotel at 3PM today. Please dress accordingly.

Yours, Tolliver

(ps. I love you)

Hitch would never admit it - he’d been too busy doting on his boyfriend in every possible way, determined to make his recovery as easy and painless as possible - but the last two weeks were quietly hellish for him. There were so many times he just barely caught himself before his lips pressed too insistently, a little too long, a little too… a peck wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel right to compare his suffering to Tolliver’s, so he tried not to think about it, but it still nagged at him. Knowing he couldn’t just kiss him as simply as he always had made him subtly, subconsciously, obsess over what he was missing. He’d been taking his oral fixation out on his lover’s neck and chest (and maybe a few other places too), but it just wasn’t the same.

(Not that he wasn’t ******** thrilled with the piercing. He totally was. But the wait, ********, that wait he swore was going to be the death of him.)

The moment he woke up, he knew something was off because he didn’t feel his lover’s warmth beside him. Frowning, he’d paced around the tiny apartment and tried not to get himself worked up into a worried frenzy until he found the note on the fridge. First, he stared at it quizzically, a sort of bemused little smile on his face. What in the… ?

For a hot second, a flare of panic welled up in him. Destiny City Grand ********’ Hotel. Sounds ********’ fancy. s**t. What’s accordingly?! Tolliver knew he didn’t have a suit anymore, right? The last one, it’d gotten ******** up at that stupid a** (wonderful) New Year’s Party, covered with dip and beyond salvation by the time he got it home. Tolliver did know, he’d told him, he’d --

Of course he ********’ knows. He doesn’t ********’ expect you to wear what you don’t got, idiot. Hitch drew a long, deep breath and tried to think of what else he had, even if he had no ******** idea what this was about or - nerves, ******** stupid butterflies were fluttering around in his gut, and he didn’t even know why, because a note like that could mean ******** anything, but … (ps. I love you). His eyes lingered on the tiny line and Hitch smiled like an idiot to himself, snatching the note off the fridge as he went to go attempt to get ready for… whatever the ******** this was.

Tolli, what the hell are you up to?

Tolliver had very much appreciated the ways in which Hitch had kissed him in place of his mouth, but like his boyfriend, he was dying on the inside every day that he couldn’t kiss him the way that he actually wanted to. And perhaps it was a little silly, considering how much of their time was spent with one another, but kissing was important to Tolliver. It was a wordless expression of adoration and love, of need and want and a whole host of other things. And too many times these past two weeks he’d been on the brink of just saying ******** it, but the last thing he wanted was for it to be infected.

So they’d both endured, and now, finally, things were at an end. Or really, a beginning.

Tolliver indeed knew that Hitch did not have a suit; belatedly, he realized that he probably should have said something on his note about just wearing whatever Hitch was comfortable with. He hadn’t necessarily meant something grand and extravagant, in spite of the nature of their meeting place, and Tolliver himself was in jeans - although he had dressed up a little, in a black button down shirt and a white tie.

Now he stood outside the lobby, without his cane (because bringing it would have ruined the effect he was trying to have, and besides, he was also trying to learn to walk without it these days, even if it was hard), Tolliver absently brushing back a few stray strands of hair from his face.

When Hitch arrived, he would see that the tongue piercing was not the only thing that had changed about his lover; the front, longer strands of Tolliver’s hair were no longer dyed the bright blue and green they had been. Now they were an inky black at the tips, as though Tolliver had dipped his hair into an inkwell, the color ebbing up until it melted away and gave into his natural bright red. It was a change he’d done on a whim, because the blue and green was part of his past, and he wanted to be able to move forward.

He was also nervous as all hell. This was Hitch, this was his boyfriend and his lover and his favorite person, but Tolliver was still anxious, shifting from one foot to the other (half out of an attempt at keeping the weight off of his bad leg, half because of nerves) as he waited for Hitch to arrive.

So he didn’t have a suit jacket.

That was fine. He had a gray jacket that was sort of nice tucked away somewhere, thankfully not in his storage unit at the end of town. It’d be a little warm but whatever.

He didn’t have a tie.

Also fine. He had a decent white shirt he could tuck into his pants.

Yeah, he’d also ripped his last pair of decent black pants right in the a**.

Black jeans would have to do.

He only had his black boots.

Well, that was that. At least when he tied his hair back, it looked more or less like he’d at least attempted to polish himself up. So off Hitch went to meet his boyfriend, and the thing that got him most was he had literally no idea what to expect. The only thing he could (sort of) safely assume was that it was nothing bad, whatever it was. Bar that, he hadn’t a ******** clue, and not knowing made him a ball of ******** nerves.

(Even if it was stupid kind of thrilling, too. He was so ******** weird.)

Still, none of it mattered, not really, when he saw his lover standing there and waiting for him. Like always, his stupidly irrational nerves began to melt away, his eyes roaming his lover’s form as he came closer. A smile lit his face, lopsided and familiar. “Black suits you, “ he purred, offering his lover an arm in case he wanted it. “You look ********’ amazin’ babe.”

The Destiny City Grand Hotel was located in the center of the city, and wasn’t quite as grand as one or two of the others that were also in town; but it was still relatively high class, with a man at the door and valet parking. Tolliver didn’t exactly feel out of place - people in clothes less fancy than his own were coming and going - but he felt vaguely awkward nonetheless, unable to keep still.

But then, there was Hitch, walking towards him, and Tolliver sucked in a sharp breath, butterflies exploding in his stomach. It maybe wasn’t hugely dressed up, but it was enough, and it was absolutely, perfectly Hitch, and just seeing him, dressed like he was, smiling the way he was...Tolliver felt he knew exactly, now, what the term took my breath away meant.

He was unable to hide his own smile, which spread across his face, bright and huge and absolutely adoring, nose crinkling up, a flush dusting his cheeks.

“Hi,” Tolliver said happily, and he slid his hand into Hitch’s arm, leaned close and nuzzled his face against his lover’s. “T...thank you, I wasn’t - I mean, I kinda wanted something different, y’know, something new and different.”

He almost gave in and kissed him thoroughly right then and there - but no, not yet, he’d waited two weeks, after all, he could wait a little longer. Hitch still didn’t know he was cleared for everything yet, and this was a night for taking care of Hitch, after all. Tolliver slanted his head and pressed his lips warmly against his lover’s, lingering with his other hand on Hitch’s upper arm.

He pulled away after a moment, eyes half-lidded, and then pressed a single chaste kiss to Hitch’s lips again, because he would never really get enough.

“You look wonderful,” Tolliver murmured, gaze sweeping up and down his boyfriend’s figure, chest tightening. “Just…” He drew in a breath. “Wonderful.”

His happy expression was still on his face as he looked back at Hitch again. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, gently touching the side of his face.

The kind of smile Tolliver got just then and there, when he praised him - that was one of his favorites. Easily in the top ten, maybe higher than that, right down to the way his nose crinkled. Being close to Tolliver, even just the simple act of looping their arms together, was enough to make him relax, releasing some of the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding ever since he’d woken up and his lover wasn’t there with him. It’d never really happened like that before; Hitch slipped away out of necessity, and most of the time he was up long before his lover was. Days off, like today, they both got to sleep in; except it wasn’t like today. Today was a ******** anomaly, but it was shaping up to be a good one.

He tilted his head so he could brush his lips over his lover’s freckled cheek as Tolliver nuzzled him. “New, different, and sexy, “ Hitch went on ahead to inform him, flashing him another playful smile that soon gave way to a light blush. He loved Tolliver’s eyes on him, but like always, his first instinct was to deny it; but he really was trying to remember himself. Hitch gave himself a moment to work through his instincts and give his lover a proper answer, “Thank you - you’re - not - I mean, thank you, “ he finished a little roughly, rubbing his free hand over his face and then flashing his lover a sweet, hopeless kind of smile.

But as for ready to go, well - “Go where?” Hitch asked, leaning into his fleeting touches. “Where are we going? - inside here?” and his eyes were wide as he motioned to the way too fancy for him hotel (or so he thought). “Or…?”

He was still nervous; even though seeing Hitch melted away some of the tension in him just from being there, this was something that Tolliver wasn’t at all used to. He had prepared extensively and done a fair bit of secret research over the past week, and thought he was relatively confident about everything - but at the same time, his anxieties still crawled up into his stomach, whispering that everything would go wrong at some point or another.

Tolliver blushed, naturally, at sexy, because out of all the compliments Hitch gave him, this was the one he had the most difficulty with. He saw himself as gawky and skinny, too freckled and too thin and too pale, but for some reason Hitch seemed to love calling him that.

He was pleased - very pleased - that his lover had not tried to deny the compliment he’d given him, though he knew it was an instinctive reaction to do so. Tolliver eased himself a little closer, and there was a shy, playful look on his face, one of the first he’d worn since being with Hitch.

“Here?” he asked, glancing at the hotel, but then he leaned closer, lips against Hitch’s ear.

“This is...here is for later,” he murmured, and pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his lover’s ear before drawing away, still embarrassed with himself for being so forward, even after all this time. He was blushing furiously, but he still smiled, fingers smoothing down the front of Hitch’s coat and marveling silently at how handsome he looked.

“But we’re going out to eat,” said Tolliver gently. “My treat. It’s a little place just half a block away, you can see it from here, even.”

He looped his arm through Hitch’s more securely and began to tug him to the left, limping a little, though his leg didn’t really hurt yet.

“Sleep well?” Tolliver asked, automatically resting his head against Hitch’s shoulder as they walked. “I’m sorry I had to leave before you woke up, I just wanted to, erm...get everything - get everything ready for us.”

Hitch thought freckles were sexy - on Tolliver, not on him. He thought his skin was beautifully, exquisitely pale, and that it worked so well with the red of his hair. And he was built perfectly, carried himself with a kind of elegance he’d never seen in another person, even with his limp - which just meant he got to carry him sometimes, tuck him away safely in his arms and feel Tolliver curl against his chest. There was, quite simply, not a single god damn thing he did not find appealing about Tolliver St. James.

Then there was that look, a look he’d never ******** seen on his lover’s face before, and it was lame as ******** but he was pretty sure his ******** heart stopped beating for a second there - and those <******** lips on his ear making Hitch shudder and drew that familiar, sharp breath between his teeth and reaching out to run idle fingers along Tolliver’s side through his shirt. “Tolli, “ and it was as much a warning as it was pleased wonder, although his cheeks reddened at the thought that his boyfriend was putting the money into a hotel room for the two of them.

And dinner - “It’s not too expensive, right?” He reddened further as he said it, clearing his throat because <********> that might’ve sounded rude, right? “I just don’t want you wastin’ - “ ********, NO, bad word choice Logan, worst word choice. “ - spendin’ too much on me, “ he finished, clearing his throat again, and then amended quickly, “N-not that I’m not excited! An’ starved! ******** I’m excited!” And he was. But even the first time, their first time, when Tolliver had taken him out to eat (looking back, didn’t that even feel like a date?), even then Hitch had been subtly planning ways to at least half the bill. It was a little bit of a pride thing, yes, but it was more a guilt thing - and it was one thing he knew he didn’t really have to worry about with Tolliver and it was completely stupid to have said anything at all, really. “Sorry, I - that was dumb.”

His cheeks were still red with shame when Tolliver’s head came to rest on his shoulder, and such a simple thing was insanely reassuring, whether or not he really deserved it. “I did… too well, “ and he laughed a little, although really, a little extra sleep went a long way for him. The circles were less blaring today, and he hadn’t tried once yet to bite back a yawn or rub his eyes. “No, it’s fine; I’m happy you - did this for me, “ and his cheeks burned again because they probably both knew he wasn’t used to people doing jack s**t for him, at least not without expecting the favor returned. “Thank you. I’m sorry I - I’m sorry baby.”

Please don’t look sad. Please don’t look disappointed. ********, it’d kill him, please don’t.

For once, he was the one who had made Hitch have that sort of reaction. Tolliver felt a strange sort of thrill from it, his stomach twisting, his chest tightening - and he may have grazed his teeth ever so slightly over Hitch’s ear before pulling away, just to see what sort of reaction he’d get. It was the sort of thing that Hitch normally did to him, but this was not a night for him - it was a night meant for Hitch, to show how much Tolliver loved and appreciated him.

The concerns about the price for dinner, as well as Hitch’s flustered nature, made Tolliver turn his head to look at his boyfriend, brows drawing together. For a moment it seemed as though he might be confused, but then it cleared up, and Tolliver’s expression relaxed into something that seemed like it was possibly amusement, but most likely was just simple adoration, because he wasn’t going to make light of his lover’s concerns.

Tolliver had slowed his steps as they drew nearer to the restaurant, and now he shifted around to stand in front of Hitch, sliding his arm free so that he could take both of Hitch’s hands in his own. He was slightly taller than Hitch, something that always made him terribly self conscious, but they were at least close enough in height that there was no huge amounts of leaning involved.

“It’s all right,” he said gently, a soft smile on his face. “I promise. You’re not dumb, I just…”

Tolliver gave a shrug that was an indicator of his helpless adoration for the man in front of him, eyes shining, though not with tears.

“I just wanted to give you a night for you,” he said, and stepped a little closer. “I wanted to give back to you a little of what you’ve given to me, all this time. And most of all, I want you to realize that I’m doing this, not just because I love you, which I do - “ His face flushed with pleasure. “ - I adore you - but because I want you to realize just how worthy of a man you are, how much you mean to me, and how much you should mean to yourself.”

He leaned forward and kissed him softly, just lightly, very chastely (for now).

“So don’t worry about anything, heart,” Tolliver murmured. “Please. Let me take care of you tonight.”

Good job Tolliver; they were out in public, right in front of a fancy a** hotel, and when those teeth grazed his ear, Hitch ******** moaned. It was quiet, yes, and half-strangled because he was super aware of where they were, but it still ******** happened. Someone even overheard and threw them a look, which Hitch answered with a glare and a challenge even as the blood rushed to his face and - other things. God ******** damnit Tolli. “Later, “ he leaned in to whisper roughly to his boyfriend, with an edge of danger that might or might not have been playful. “I’m gonna get you for that.”

Sometimes he forgot. Tolliver spent so much time in his bed, or leaning against him, or in his arms, or sitting - so many things that it made it easy to overlook his height. Not like he minded that Tolliver was taller or anything, it wasn’t any huge difference and it didn’t change a single goddamn thing. It just kind of took him aback sometimes when they stood there like this and he found himself looking up instead of down to meet his eyes.

(It wasn’t like Hitch was self-conscious about his height or anything - no, he wasn’t exactly proud of it either…)

Something released in his shoulders when Tolliver assured him it was fine, that nothing was ruined (because <********> there was still that nagging voice in his head no matter what he did that warned him any ******** could ruin everything), but then - well, ******** listen to him. Standing there and saying these ******** beautiful a** things to him, and there was Hitch standing there, toying with his piercing between his teeth and turning all kinds of red and trying not to get ******** emotional about it, but - he sniffed a little when the sweetest chaste kiss had ended, and he looked away annoyed, not at Tolliver of course but at himself. “You are - “ His voice shook stupidly, and he tapped a hand against his thigh in a slow beat, trying to keep his cool.

He looked back out of the corner of his eye and wished they weren’t glassy. But he wanted to look at Tolliver anyway, had to. “- an amazin’ ********’ man, Tolliver St. James. Y’know that?”

It was cute that he thought that’d help; not that Hitch knew that’s what he was going for. He figured his lover was just finding the right buttons to push to get him flustered or whatever, which really, Hitch totally deserved to be honest. It wasn’t like he didn’t push Tolliver’s enough, right? “Fine; you’re not gonna win anyway so whatever, “ he huffed, playing it up as he happily claimed his glass of bourbon. (It was good that Tolli had thought to ask for water - at some point he was going to need that. Just not yet.)

Oh it felt so good to turn the tables back. - and even better, Tolliver actually ******** took him up on it. “Man, “ Hitch grinned slyly as he tilted the glass towards his lips, taking a sip and flicking the rim with the tip of his tongue when he was done. Because he was an a**. “You must reaaaaally want to hear me brag about how awesome I am, huh?” he teased, leaning back in his seat and totally deliberately (and gently) bumping their knees together.

He looked down, and then back up, toying with his lip again as he seemed to mull something over. “You really do, y’know, “ and realizing it probably came out of nowhere, he chuckled, swirling his ice in his drink. “Look good, I mean. I know I already said it but, uh - you look really ********’ good.”

Hitch was the worst, Tolliver decided, his gaze fixated on Hitch’s mouth, and unconsciously he licked his own lips, chest feeling tight. Beneath the table, he felt their legs bump together, making him jump slightly, face flushing. Hitch was the absolute worst, he was terrible and teasing and awful and stupidly hot and frustratingly sexy and -

Tolliver dragged himself back to the present.

“No,” he said, still blushing, still flustered, and bit his lip as his gaze flickered towards Hitch. “I just want you to feel what I feel when you look at me. And I want you to feel good when I - when I look at you, and to know that not everything I say is just words, but truth.”

The unexpected compliment took him by surprise; Tolliver’s mouth opened and then shut abruptly, and he looked to the side, toying with the rings on his black painted fingers so that he had something to do with his hands. Truth be told, he felt rather nervous about his outfit, wondering if it was too fancy for such an outing, but…

Tolliver fiddled with the white tie around his neck.

“T...thank you,’ he said softly, because he’d be a hypocrite if he couldn’t accept a compliment but tried to make Hitch accept one. “I, um...I wanted to...look good for you.”

When it came to what Tolliver said about him, well - it slipped. “I believe you believe them, “ and Hitch looked back over his shoulder just as soon as he said it, like he was checking for a waitress they both knew wasn’t coming. That was about as good as accepting them as a truth, right? He knew he didn’t have to say it, that Tolliver may or may not take it the wrong way, but… but it wasn’t like what Tolliver said didn’t mean anything to him, and Hitch just at least needed him to know that. Because if his lover thought that, he might stop trying to say them at all, and Hitch didn’t want that.

It was so much easier with the attention on Tolliver though, really. “You do. You really look… you look sexy in a tie an’ s**t, “ and that was a little harder to get out than just a generalized ‘sexy’ and it was stupid that it caught on his tongue, but again. In some ways, even if he didn’t act like it, and even if it wasn’t news to him, this was the first time in his life he was acting on his sexuality. There was no closet here anymore, no more guilty thoughts or sideways glances to regret.

“An’ - yeah - I’m lookin’ forward to taking it off you later, “ and it was sadly, even easier to tease than to sit there and be genuine sometimes. He took another swig of his bourbon, a big one.

Tolliver had spent most of his life pretending that how he felt didn’t exist; that the slow, but steady attraction to males, rather than females, had been nothing more than a phase (his mother’s words, once upon a time, when she had been talking about their neighbor’s child). He’d buried it deep, ignored it, went on enough dates with girls to act like he was just casually disinterested in dating as a whole, rather than the fact that it was actually the girl part of dating he didn’t like. Maybe this was why Fritz had never before thought he was gay, or maybe he had just refused to believe that it could be anything otherwise.

But now, here he was, sitting in a restaurant with another man, dressed up for another man, dating another man.

I believe you believe them. Well, it wasn’t exactly the same thing as saying he believed them, but it was kind of there, maybe. Hitch was given a little nod, the flush on Tolliver’s face deepening as he reached for his own glass of bourbon.

“T...thank you,” he managed to get out, blushing further still, and suddenly he was all-too-aware of what he was wearing, where they were, and how much Tolliver was wishing it was the promised later already. He fiddled with his tie and then smoothed it down in idle, distracted gestures, almost choking at the last thing Hitch had said.

“M...me too,” he mumbled, before he could stop himself, and then, to his relief, the food came, which was an excellent way of hiding the fact that Tolliver felt uncomfortably hot around the collar. An enormous plate of steaming barbecue ribs, lathered in sauce, with some french fries on the side for Hitch; and for Tolliver, a medium rare steak, topped with grilled mushrooms and some sort of delicious looking cream sauce, as well as some broccoli on the side.

His gaze flickered to Hitch’s as Tolliver lifted his napkin, placed it delicately in his lap, and then reached for his knife and fork.

“I’ll be looking forward to my win,” he said, a little playfully, as he began to cut into his steak.

In all of his days, Hitch had never been so excited and angry at the same time about food. He threw his boyfriend a tense, longing look, just long enough to be sure he saw it - to know how badly he was wanted and how much appreciation he’d get later if Hitch had a damn thing to say about it - before licking his lips and turning towards his ribs, brows furrowed, a knife and fork in each hand.

“Good thing I got singles.”

Just to rile his adorable a** English boyfriend up a little more before he dug in - couldn’t let Tolliver get the last word, right?

The problem, though, was that they were ribs. Despite his best efforts, there really was no single clean way to eat them, no matter how much he licked and sucked at his fingers to try and wipe away any remaining traces of the sauce. Seriously, even if he’d been wearing a damn pair of gloves, it wouldn’t have mattered one damn bit. Sauce was everywhere. It got on the corners of his lips even when he tried to lick them clean. Some got on his chin. Some was one his nose. Somehow, inevitably, a smudge got on his forehead. Really, it seemed like he got about halfway through before he ******** gave up the bet entirely and just enjoyed his delicious a** food, chomping happily away like he hadn’t eaten something this good in ages.

(He hadn’t.)

The look in Hitch’s eyes was enough to send a small shiver through Tolliver, and hastily he bent his head over his steak, trying not to show the way that his face was so hot it felt like he was going to melt right then and there. The comment about singles succeeded in making him snort with a soft giggle, at least, Tolliver neatly cutting up his food into bite sized pieces.

And, well, it seemed like he would be winning after all, because Hitch at some point (after Tolliver forcefully dragged his eyes away yet again from his ridiculous - and by ridiculous he meant hot - boyfriend licking at his fingers), just gave right up. Tolliver watched him eat with an affectionate expression on his face, because Hitch was happy,/i] and he was eating excitedly, and they had good food and good company in each other and essentially just good things.

(He also really and truly thought it was adorable, Hitch eating so enthusiastically, but he wasn’t about to say it.)

Tolliver was suppressing giggles by the time he finished his own food, the napkin that had originally been in his lap raised to his mouth to muffle the sound of them. He had been trying not to laugh, but it was coming out anyway, and he’d also drunk two glasses of bourbon by this point. And while Tolliver held his alcohol well, and wasn’t even close to being drunk, it still gave him a pleasant buzz - he’d kept the drinks to a minimum, however, because he wanted the both of them to remember this night, not wake up the next morning fuzzy headed and confused.

“You missed a spot,” Tolliver said, still giggling, gesturing at Hitch’s left cheek.

Hitch wasn’t drinking as much as he usually would have for that very reason; he was still new to drinking, and even if he enjoyed the act (a lot - a lot a lot), he went from pleasantly buzzed to stupid drunk way too fast. So just for tonight, he took it easy, and one glass was really enough for him. - well, he’d tried, anyway. He’d still stolen a few sips from Tolliver’s glass on the second round, leaving traces of barbeque lip prints on the rim of his glass. But at least he’s also had water this time, so that was a plus.

“Huh?” Hitch blinked, and dabbed at the smudge of sauce with his napkin. It lingered, naturally, a stubborn little sticky stain on his freckled skin. “I get it? - how was that steak? Did you like it?” Was he shamelessly trying to draw attention away from the bet now that he’d lost? Oh, absolutely. Plus, Tolliver was adorable and giggling and hopefully distracted as hell. “So what next? - are we going back to the hotel?” and he leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers laced together under his chin and staring intently at his boyfriend. (Honestly, who could blame him; on the list of favorite things in Hitch’s world, it went something like Tolliver, food, sex, music, and cigarettes.)

(Some part of him was still debating sneaking some cash in, to help foot the bill - even if he knew Tolliver wouldn’t go for it. Didn’t keep him from thinking about it though.)

Tolliver dipped his napkin into his water glass, leaning over to gently swipe it at Hitch’s cheek, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“Got it,” he said, a smile on his face as he settled back down, and if Hitch thought that Tolliver had forgotten their bet, he definitely hadn’t. The difference was, however, that Tolliver was already planning things out inside of his mind - or rather, he had been from the moment he’d decided to do this night for Hitch - and Hitch would not be disappointed by the turnout.

Or, at least, Tolliver certainly hoped so.

The waitress had already been by to drop off their check, and Tolliver felt a growing warmth in his chest the longer that Hitch looked at him.

“Y...yes,” he said, now back to being flustered, anticipation beating a rapid rhythm in his heart; but he slid some money beneath his water glass and slipped out of the booth, taking ahold of Hitch’s hands to pull him out as well. “Let’s...come on.” He knew, somewhere in his mind, that if he didn’t get him out of the place fast, that Hitch would probably and try to insist on paying some part of it - and also because Tolliver was simply eager - and nervous - about getting the next part of their evening started.

The walk back to the hotel took both a very short time and a very long time, because Tolliver kept over thinking every little thing, every detail, half going out of his mind trying to work out all of the small details. He wanted things to be perfect, yes, but he also wanted them to be good, because Hitch was so very worth it, after all.

He didn’t need to stop at the front desk; the card key was in his pocket, and Tolliver’s mouth felt dry as he led Hitch to the elevators, fingers twined together, and ******** was he really doing this, was he really going to -

“S...seventh floor,” he mumbled, punching the wrong button - the 9th - by accident before hastily getting the right one. The doors slid shut, and then they were alone, for the first time since they’d started the evening, and -

Tolliver turned towards Hitch, and his trembling fingers rose, slid along the lapels of Hitch’s coat before he curled them around the edges to tug him a little closer, breath stuttering in his throat. He wanted desperately to just kiss him right then and there, but no, it wasn’t time yet, it had to be just right, he had to have everything right -

“...are you having a good time so far?” he asked softly instead, anxiety in his eyes.

A small grunt escaped him when that damp napkin was pressed to his cheek, but Hitch couldn’t help but grin at the gesture, idly tucking a stray lock of hair that’d fallen loose (the one stubborn one that always came loose first) back behind his ear. So many stupidly little things just made him feel so… well, yeah, wanted. He didn’t think he’d ever get over the novelty of it, really.

‘Yes’ was the answer, and with that soft little word ringing in his head, Hitch couldn’t even get worked up about the fact that his boyfriend had gone ahead and led him out before he could pull any of his usual money slipping tactics. He hadn’t even gotten to look at the bill. The walk back was quiet, very different from the walk there, but Hitch didn’t really mind. He could see the lines of tension on Tolliver’s face, and he knew his lover. He knew the kind of effort that’d probably gone into all of this, and even if he would never really deserve it, Hitch was so grateful. He reached out and took Tolliver’s hand to wrap it up in his own, deliberately keeping his pace slow to match his lover’s careful limp and making it seem natural.

Hitch carefully hid a smile as his lover hit the wrong button, then the right one, and said nothing - not until they were on the elevator, alone in their own world again, and he was more than happy to be tugged closer, his hands falling to his lover’s hips and curling there. He made sure to meet Tolliver’s gaze, brown on brilliant green, as he smiled for real at him. “I’m havin’ a ********’ amazin’ time babe… this is… “

He wanted to make Tolliver feel good about this. He wanted him to know how much he - “No one’s ever taken me out before, y’know?” and even if he wanted to say something, he felt sort of silly saying that. He tried to play it off confidently, but the red in his cheeks kind of gave him away.

The feel of Hitch’s hands on his hips both helped and hindered Tolliver’s desire to remain calm. Helped, because he loved the reassuring feel of them, and because he knew Hitch loved to rest them there. And hindered because it only served to make the heat grow in his face, Tolliver’s lips pressed together, his gaze still anxious.

He swayed a little, and then gave a little nod, biting his lip. “I’m...I’m glad,” Tolliver murmured, and leaned for a brief moment against his lover. “I wanted to...I wanted to do this for you.”

The elevator doors dinged; Tolliver jumped a little, startled, but then dragged in a deep breath and smiled shyly at his lover, letting go of his lapels to slide a hand down and take ahold of Hitch’s once more. He stepped out onto the floor, heartbeat erratic, and made their way to the right door - 706. Tolliver fumbled with the keycard - it took him three times to get it right - and then, mercifully, they were inside and alone.

It was a very nice room; the single bed was obviously a queen sized, with luscious pillows and blankets, as well as a sturdy mahogany desk, minifridge, enormous washroom, and comfortable looking couch. Gold drapes hung from the windows, tasseled ties hanging from the sides in case one wanted to pull them back.

But Tolliver didn’t want to pull them back. He didn’t want to do anything except the one thought he’d had in mind since the start of their evening, and now that they were secluded away, with no prying eyes, the moment was right.

Tolliver reached for Hitch, and his hands found the lapels of his coat once more. In one swift movement, he’d gently but firmly stepped forward, pushing him back against the closed door - and normally Tolliver was the one who wanted someone else to take the lead, wanted the slight force that Hitch exuded (if he was diligent, he would have noticed that Tolliver secretly enjoyed being pushed up against surfaces) but circumstances were different this one time.

Tolliver’s face was mere inches from Hitch’s now, a flush on his cheeks, fingers shaking, eyes half lidded and fixated entirely on his lover’s face.

“Finally,” he breathed out, and then Tolliver had closed the distance between them entirely.

It had been so long. It had been too long, and he had wanted this so terribly badly. And now Hitch would learn just how healed that piercing Tolliver had gotten was, and part of the reason why Tolliver had even gotten it in the first place.

When he pulled away, it was just as slow as the kiss had been, and he pressed one, two soft kisses before entirely separating. Tolliver looked dazed and almost drunk as he leaned back, eyes half lidded and distant, lips reddened as he licked them absently, fingers still latched onto the front of Hitch’s coat.

“I’m…” He swallowed hard, giving Hitch a tremulous smile.

“I missed you.”

“I was jealous, “ and it slipped out without thinking; redness flared up across Hitch’s face at the admission, and his shoulders tensed a little without realizing. “It’s stupid - “ he amended fast, too fast. “‘Cause I know that he’s your - but I - “ How to even begin saying something like that without sounding like an a**? There was no way. “I don’t have anyone else, “ he grunted as though that remotely sufficed as an explanation, his fingers curling and uncurling against his lover’s skin as he fidgeted, just a little. “But I didn’t - I didn’t want - “ What happened to you to happen. He just couldn’t ******** say it right, and wished he hadn’t at all. “Just forget it, “ and he looked down, away, and then back like he did sometimes when he was overwhelmed. It was almost always self-inflicted, of course.

His eyes, which had been shut, opened at the stuttered, stammered confession, and though Tolliver didn’t lift his head, stilling against his lover’s neck, he was listening intently, lips parting in surprise. A beat passed, his chest tightening as some strange emotion began to crawl its way into his chest, expanding until it had almost overtaken him.

Slowly, Tolliver straightened, and his hands slid upwards, until they rested on either side of his lover’s face. His thumbs swept across his cheeks, tender and sweet, and his eyes fell to meet his lover’s. They were still twined together, still close, Tolliver’s legs wrapped securely around Hitch’s waist.

“You know, I…” he hesitated, fingers starting to tremble a little against Hitch’s cheeks. “I always thought that having a twin brother was supposed to mean something, that we were supposed to have some sort of…” He floundered a moment. “telepathic ability or something, you know. And I grew up thinking that it was normal to be mistaken for my better brother, that it was normal to be considered one person, instead of two.”

He shifted a little, Tolliver’s lashes fluttering.

“But you...you were the one who took me away from that, who told me that I was who I was. You made me feel…” He sucked in a sharp breath. “You made me feel like I wasn’t just...just brother of Fritz. You were the first person who wanted me for exactly...who I am.”

Tolliver bent his head, forehead against his lover’s, and now the breath he exhaled was shaking, body beginning to tremble.

“You have me,” he managed to get out, and his lashes were wet. “Even if Fritz hadn’t reacted the way he did, even if he’d been supportive, I would have still chosen you. I would have still fallen in love with you, because all I want is you, and all I need is you. I’m not saying I still don’t love Fritz, but he pushed me away, and that ******** hurts, it hurts so much, but at the same time - at the same time - “

He let out a soft sob, Tolliver gritting his teeth.

“At the same time, he did us both a favor,” he choked out. “If he hadn’t - if he - because it let me stay with you, and I know I just, I’m selfish and I’m greedy and I just crashed at your place without really asking first, and I take up too much space and I sleep all day because everything hurts too much sometimes, and ********, I didn’t even - I haven’t even said anything about helping to pay rent, because I didn’t want to freak you out, but I just, I love being able to wake up to you, and I love being able to fall asleep next to you, and I just, I know things are all sorts of ******** up right now, but even though I can’t make up for what you’ve lost or what you don’t have, I can - I can at least remind you that you have me, and that you have me, no matter what.”

He was breathing very fast by the end, chest tight, almost gasps escaping him, a red flush of embarrassment on his face, but he was staring heatedly at his lover, refusing to back down.

“You have me,” Tolliver said hoarsely. “And you will never lose me.”

Hitch was nothing if not responsive, canting his head and shivering at key points, rubbing slow circles into his lover’s bare skin with his clean hand. When he said that, though, when Tolliver slowly lifted his head to look at him, hands sliding over his cheeks in that familiar, soothing way, Hitch stopped moving at all - he just looked at his lover as he spoke, taking in what he was saying, his lips slowly pressing together into a thin, taut line.

He’d met Fritz. He’d spoken to Fritz. And how anyone could overlook Tolliver in favor of him, just - he couldn’t comprehend it. Tolliver was funny, with a sense of humor that was sometimes dry and witty and sometimes as immature as slathering ketchup all over him and always perfect. Tolliver was charming, biting his lip and blushing and always touching his face like his and looking at him, never, ever with an ounce of ******** pity on his face no matter how ******** pathetic Hitch was being. Tolliver was - how could people not have seen it before now? He couldn’t imagine being the only one. There was no way Fritz could shine bright enough to take away Tolliver’s smile.

The thought made him sad - and intensely, unreasonably happy at the same time, because ********, if he could do one thing for him, one thing only, if he could give him something like that, if he could give him anything, if that was all he did, it’d be enough, it’d be enough, it’d - Tolliver said Fritz had done them a favor, no matter how badly he’d suffered. He had no idea, no ******** idea how much Hitch wanted to hear that.

“I felt like such s**t," he choked out, surprised and frustrated by the amount of raw emotion in his voice, trying to ignore the obnoxious heat pooling around his eyes and how the ******** did he keep making him do this god ******** damnit. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, but kept talking, because it was already half-out, and he couldn’t choke the rest back now. “‘Cause you were so sad - you are so sad - an’ I’ve been so - so ********’ happy, “ and he couldn’t look at Tolliver when he said it, he couldn’t do it, tilting his face forward in Tolliver’s hands. “I haven’t been this happy since - “ Mom died. “Since I can ********’ remember, “ more accurate. For once, it was the more honest thing to say. “I don’t need your money, I don’t need you to do a damn thing, just - I just need you there, “ hadn’t he hinted enough? Hadn’t he said it clearly already? - had he said it at all? He left so many ******** things unsaid.

“Even if things got better tomorrow, I don’t even - I’d be glad, but - ********, babe, I don’t wanna live there alone anymore.” I can’t, and it was needy and selfish and ******** pathetic, even more as he felt a streak of heat lance down his face.

He’d thought the same thing.

Even in the depths of his depression, even in the throes of self hate and frustration and shame and regrets, the longer that Tolliver stayed with Hitch, the longer he wanted stay with him. He knew the stigma - knew that living together was not the same as simply dating, because living in the same space as someone else meant that you would be exposed to a lot of things hidden behind the scenes. But Tolliver had fit so easily and so perfectly into his lover’s apartment, that now it had become second nature to come home to him, second nature to let himself in without feeling the need to knock at all. Second nature to slip down into that mattress on the floor and curl next to his lover, happy, safe and warm.

Out of his fight with Fritz, something good had happened, something incredible, something that Tolliver could not and would not live without, not now, not after he’d gotten so used to it, not after he’d craved it like something precious and tender.

Hitch’s cheeks were warm, damp now. Tolliver’s thumbs smoothed over them, a hiccuping sob escaping.

“No more,” Tolliver whispered. “No more alone, Hitch.”

No more Tolliver waking up in the loft he shared with Fritz staring at the barren walls around him and wondering if he’d even have the strength to get up to make food. No more Hitch coming home after a long day’s work to an empty apartment, a lone bed.

Tolliver let out a sound that was mostly a watery laugh.

“Are you asking…” he said tremulously. “Are you - are you asking me to move in with you?”

His breath caught in his throat, because please, please please, ******** please -

Hitch brought a hand up to cup Tolliver’s cheek the second he heard that hiccuping sob. He adored that, too, and wondered if he’d ever told his lover about that either - how many things he hadn’t told him yet that he should have, that he needed to. Just when one thing was unsaid, the rest fell in so easily, and they were all linked so tight together, and just - <********> He gritted his teeth painfully tight, enough to make his jaw ache, when he said ‘no more alone’, and his shoulders shook hard as a few more hot tears streaked down his cheeks.

I didn’t realize. I didn’t ********’ know how alone I was until you were there, you ********. I didn’t ********’ know, an’ you… He didn’t say any of this in words, like so many other things. But Tolliver knew, didn’t he? - just like he knew. He knew Tolliver had been lonely too. Two ******** sides of the same goddamn coin and they didn’t even ******** know it at that goddamn party and still, Tolliver had come up and talked to him and waited for him and…

Even then, he ******** waited for me. He ********’ worried about me. He didn’t even ********’ know me then./i]

He laughed; he laughed that thick, choking laugh he did when he got himself worked up, when he was emotional and desperately didn’t want to be. “How many goddamn ways do I have to spell it out for you?” he choked out, looking his lover square in the eye, finally. “Yes. Please. I’ll draw you a goddamn diagram if you ********’ need it, just - please. Please move in with me babe.”

Somehow, he’d probably known it; the little hints, the little gestures, all of the times that Hitch had slipped up in mentioning the future in any way. But Tolliver had been scared that he’d been overthinking it, terrified that it was just him reading too much into something he shouldn’t. And now he was sitting here, and Hitch was looking at him that way, tears on his face, a tremor in his shoulders, and he was saying what he was saying and -

Tolliver’s answer was not verbal at first. His hands pressed against his lover’s face, and then he’d surged forward, kissing him desperately, and there were a million different emotions running through his head, but none of them were clear, everything messy except for one single thing -

“Yes,” Tolliver gasped, and another sob escaped him as he half choked out a helpless laugh, cheeks streaked with wetness, and now he was crying with abandon, eyes squeezed shut as his hands came up, pressed over his teary face, and Hitch wanted to live together, he wanted to live together, he wanted them to be together for a long time.

“Yes,” Tolliver managed to get out again, voice muffled behind his fingers, raw and adoring. “Yes, ******** yes I will move in with you, please let me stay with you, Logan, oh my ******** bloody hell, please ******** yes let me live with you.”

Hitch knew, for once - before Tolliver ever had to open his mouth, he knew. That kiss said everything, and his hand slipped from his lover’s cheek, both arms wrapping almost painfully tightly around him, kissing him just as desperately with no ounce of abandon.

Yes. He still choked on a half-formed sob at the answer like an idiot, because that was it - he didn’t have to dread it anymore. He didn’t have to worry about the day when Tolliver would come home and smile at him and tell him that things with his brother were okay and now it was time for him to go back home. It wouldn’t come. Hitch could pray for them to sort s**t out without having this nagging, selfish p***k of doubt and worry and fear. No more hitches of paranoia every time Tolliver mentioned running into Fritz. No more comment about how Fritz was a twin and Hitch couldn’t understand look you’re the outsider you’re disposable rolling in the back of his head.

“Bloody hell, ********’ listen to you, “ he choked out as he brought a hand back up to press at the back of Tolliver’s neck, laughing still, trying to coax his lover’s hands away from his face with his free one, peppering kisses where he could and feeling just as stupid as ever for crying but ******** got better again. How? - How much ********’ higher can he take me?

“I’ll make you breakfast, “ and Hitch sputtered as he said it, laughing and stumbling over his words that were stupid and inane and still said so much, “Every ********’ day. An’ - an’ you can do what you want, you - there ain’t much but - “ The little touches of Tolliver over the weeks - toothbrush, clothes, towel - they’d all meant so much more to Hitch than he ever said. He wanted more. He wanted to look in every corner and ******** see him there. He wanted to feel him when his lover wasn’t there. He wanted him in every ******** possible way, and if this didn’t say it, he didn’t know what would.

Hitch had told him that he never needed to hide from him, but old habits were hard to break, and Tolliver was still trying anyway, trying to block the sight of his blotchy, reddened, wet face from view, because he was embarrassed, but he was also incredibly, beautifully, happy. He hadn’t been overthinking. He hadn’t just been projecting his own desires into each and every little thing that Hitch did, hoping beyond hope that this was not just some temporary thing. Hiding his fear and stress that Fritz would one day drag him back to their place.

He’d never lived with anyone other than his brother before, and he was a little anxious, but the anxiety was less about leaving Fritz and more about whether or not he would disappoint Hitch.

A choking laugh escaped him, watery and tremulous. He could feel Hitch trying to pry his hands away, kisses dropped to the back of his fingers and his wrists and arms, but he didn’t lower them just yet, Tolliver dragging in a shaking breath.

“It doesn’t need to be much,” he whispered, because Hitch had to know this. “It doesn’t have to be anything more than what it already - what it already is, I love being there, I love the way I feel there, I feel so - so ******** safe, and home and <********> Logan, I just - “

The heels of his hands dug into his eyes to try and stop the flow of tears.

“I love you so much,” he gasped out, body shaking. “I want to stay with you Logan, I want to stay with you.”

If only Tolliver knew how afraid Hitch was of the same damn thing. Disappointment. Rejection. It hadn’t happened yet, Tolliver kept saying it wouldn’t, but - could something this good really last forever? With someone like him, someone like Logan Hitchcock, who didn’t even deserve Tolliver to begin with --

Someone else would make him feel what Hitch did. They’d do it better. They’d --

They hadn’t yet. Someday, maybe. Today was not that day.

“The thing I like most about myself, “ and he brought it up here, tugging more insistently at Tolliver’s hands, nuzzling against his face as though drawn to the heat of his tears. “The thing I like most. You said it shouldn’t be you, but - it is, “ and he spat out the words insistently, almost desperately, please ******** understand me when I say this. “It’s the way you look at me. The me that you see an’ love, that’s - that’s the thing - that’s the thing I ********’ like the most - an’ I can’t ********’ help it, because - you’re my favorite favorite too, so you can’t ********’ ask me to do that, not involve you, ‘cause you’re ********’ half of me.”

Too much, too fast. So many people would’ve said it. Most people would’ve, really.

So ******** ‘em. ******** ‘em all.

The question. The bet. He was dragged back to reality, back to sitting in the restaurant, telling Hitch that he had to say it, that it couldn’t be about him, but it was, and it was one of the most beautiful things that Tolliver had ever heard, a choking sound escaping him, raw and guttural. The hands over his face loosened, and if Hitch simply pulled, they would fall away.

“You - you can’t say that,” Tolliver whispered helplessly, stupidly, heart hammering like mad in his chest. “You c-can’t because I’m just going to ******** fall in love with you all over again, and I don’t know if my heart can fill more of it with you, because you’re already all I think about, every part of me, everything.”

f that was the most beautiful thing Tolliver had ever heard, then he hadn’t heard himself in that moment, and Hitch’s heart skipped and swelled when he heard it, swallowing dryly, and who the ******** was he to say that when -

“Then do it, “ and Hitch tugged once more, exposing Tolliver’s tear stained, blotchy, beautiful face to him, pressing a kiss to each cheek, his forehead, then down his lips - still chastely, because he had more to say, he had - “Fall again. An’ again. An’ again. - I can’t keep doin’ it alone, babe - “

Their foreheads pressed together. “Every ********’ time you look at me - every time you call me your heart - even time you call me beautiful - “ an’ I almost believe you, “Every time you kiss me - every time you surprise me - I love you babe, “ and the kiss was longer and deeper now. "I love you,“ he breathed out, and then in, kissing him again.