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 Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 2:57 pm
( backdated )
Tolliver had told him early on in their relationship when he’d asked, and Hitch hadn’t mentioned it again; he hadn’t needed to. The date was sorted away into his mind with a million other little essential facts and quirks about his lover - his fiance - and quietly, all through the month of September, he’d been thinking, plotting - distracting himself from all the other bullshit really whenever he got a quiet moment at work.
The date was looming ever closer, and really, Hitch had never been in a relationship this long where things like birthdays and s**t mattered. It was sort of nerve-wracking, yeah, but it was also super thrilling. Tolliver was turning 24 soon, and he’d get to celebrate it with him. And even if Hitch had plenty of ideas, the unfortunate truth was hey a lot of those ideas would’ve taken money he definitely didn’t have, but - he still had plans and plots and -
Also, a secret weapon. An annoying, obnoxious secret weapon, but until they broke the marriage thing to him, he was still sort of an asset. Sort of. So early in the month, he’d shot the a*****e a text when he was out job hunting - again:SMS Text to Lite Brite:
hey happy bday month old man time
wats tolli want that he wouldnt tell me
u know his s**t
also what u want
dont say 4 me 2 leave u alone
ull hurt mai delicate feelz
:(
ur almost a quarter century old haha old man time ---------------------------------------------------- Tolliver had, for the most part, deliberately not mentioned his birthday to Hitch; not because he didn’t want him to know, but because he didn’t want him to fuss about it or make a big deal out of it. Each year that passed was, unfortunately, another year that lay between himself and Hitch, who was not only shorter, but younger, and it made Tolliver irrationally self-conscious.
So he’d said nothing at all. And he’d forgotten about Hitch with his outrageously impressive memory, because even though he’d only said it once to his lover before, Hitch would remember, and he’d make it good.
He’d also forgotten, however, that there was a second person whose birthday was, conveniently, at the same time.[b]Text to Salty b*****d:[/b] how would I know what he wants
you’re the boyfriend, aren’t you, you figure something out
ps if your feels are [i]delicate[/i] it sounds like a personal problem to me
have you tried cookies? ---------------------------------------------------- SMS Text to Ginger Spice:
bb don’t b like that
ur his bro you have like 24 yrs on me
insight man
u wanna bring me some lite brite im starvin
srsly wat do u want im gettin u something
if u wanna like it better tell me wat it is or ur gettin big gay prezent ---------------------------------------------------- [b]Text to Insalted:[/b]
stop that, you’re freaking me out
I don’t know, he likes music and stuff like that - I meant bring HIM cookies, sheesh
just give me your undying loyalty and be my servant forever
please don’t give me a big gay present
bloody hell fine he likes riding that bike of his, unfortunately you, and clothes
also chick flicks, he thinks I don’t know, but I do, he’s a bloody sucker for romantic s**t ---------------------------------------------------- SMS to Weasley Twin Powers Activate:
ilu2 bro
wow that was so helpful i had no ******** idea
sry gumby my undying loyaltys alredy taken
so what im readin is ur totally wantin big gay present
super big super gay
ill just give u both me for bday ull luv that
wats his fav movie? its less obs if u ask
if u find out ill tell you wat part of ur apartment to bleach
rly ur gonna wanna bleach it ---------------------------------------------------- [b]Text to The Worst:[/b]
screw you
no please don’t give me you I don’t want you bloody hell
keep your big gay self to my brother
he likes that one uh movie with the wedding dresses
also that one about where the chick gets the guy after a long time
bloody hell I don’t know the names of these things
something about romance, he bloody loves romance s**t
oh I remember one, he used to watch it all the time, it’s never been kissed
wait why do I need bleach
no
no
bloody ******** bloody hell
I bloody hate you two -------------------------------------------------- SMS Text to Pippi Longstockin:
sry called for nice try tho
god ur so ******** english
gladly
wow that was so ******** helpful thanks
cause lookin up ‘chick flicks’ an ‘wedding dress’ really helps
id make fun of you but i srsly dont know this chickflick stuff either
never been kissed okay thx i owe u
u changed the sheets on ur bros bed lately cause you should
<3 ill make u some cookies you flaming a*****e ---------------------------------------------------- [b]Text to:[/b] The Worst Again
I’m never doing anything for you ever again
I hate you so much
I’m bloody burning these bloody sheets
then the entire loft
goodbye bloody cruel world ---------------------------------------------------- SMS Text to The Evil Twin:
omg ur so ******** dramatic
dont worry most of its his
thx again really
hes been happier since u 2 started talkin again jus so u kno
And that was more than enough texting out of him; on this phone, it was a royal pain in the a**, although he still snapped a lot of shitty pictures for both their sakes. (Both because it was just too easy to torment Fritz a little now that he had his number.) But that wasn’t the point right now. He was left to lean back against the park bench he’d wound up settling on, for now, tapping the girly hunk of plastic against his bottom lip. It clicked against his piercing. There were a few things there to consider. Food had already been kind of a given.
He tried to figure out the other two movies during a quick trip to the library, but really, plugging in ‘romantic movie wedding dress’ or ‘romantic movie girl in love with guy long time’ didn’t get him much of anything useful. So ‘Never Been Kissed’ it was.
How the ******** he was going to do something for Tolliver involving a movie about a chick reporter that pretended to be a highschool student, that was going to take some ******** work. But Hitch would think of something; he couldn’t pretend it’d be the most gloriously elaborate ******** thing, but damn if he wasn’t going to give it his best. So he ******** researched. He watched the movie in bits and pieces when Tolliver wasn’t home, whether he was out riding his bike or whatever else his boyfriend got up to. He scrounged up what money he could, and hit the storage unit he still hadn’t told Tolliver much about to see if there were a few things he could stand to part with and sell.
It didn’t add up to a whole lot. But it’d be enough for what he wanted to do, and he could worry about the rest again later.
Tolliver’s birthday would start off small - sort of small, anyway - with Hitch slipping out of bed early and painstakingly throwing together all of his boyfriend’s favorite breakfast type s**t into more food than he’d ever possibly eat. He wanted this to start out subtle, like the brush of fingers through hair as he leaned over the bed and a whisper of “baby, mornin’, “ in his ear.
----------------------------------------------------
For the most part, Tolliver had avoided talking about his birthday.
Not because he hated it, but because...well, he was older than Hitch, and this was not a fact that Tolliver enjoyed being reminded about. It was bad enough that he was taller than his lover, but being older as well by several years was something of a sore spot for him. Every time it was mentioned, Tolliver just smiled absently and deliberately - and probably not very subtly, unfortunately - changed the subject to something else that was less focused on the fact that he was turning twenty-four.
His only consolation was that Fritz was also turning twenty-four, but since Fritz did not have a younger, shorter lover, this was hardly anything to be glad about. Tolliver did, however, send his brother a text the night before that was something along the lines of being grateful for him, but he’d been half asleep when he’d sent it, exhausted and sleepy as he’d nestled securely into Hitch’s arms, dreading when the clock turned midnight.
He slept fitfully, waking every so often, but by the time morning rolled around, he’d managed to drift into a slightly more deep, sweet sleep. Tolliver didn’t stir as Hitch got up, didn’t wake as his boyfriend bustled around doing whatever it was that he was doing, curled up on his side with his pillows everywhere around him like some sort of substitute for the warmth of another human being.
He might not have woken up at the fingers in his hair, but he did stir a little, his lashes fluttering at the soft whisper. After a few dazed, hazy moments of trying to drag himself out of the fog of sleep, Tolliver managed to open his eyes, which felt heavy and sticky.
It took him a few seconds to realize that hitch was leaning over him, and that the room smelled of bacon, though this latter fact was confusing.
“Logan…..?” Tolliver murmured sleepily, automatically lifting a hand to try and find him.
----------------------------------------------------
Without missing a beat, Hitch caught the searching hand and squeezed it, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it. “Hey beautiful, “ he murmured sweetly, slipping a little further onto the bed and tugging a few pillows aside so he could curl into him.
No, he would not fall prey to the allure of a warm bed and stay here all day, tempting as the prospect was. “Happy birthday, lil’ bird, “ he whispered, nuzzling in and pressing his lips to Tolliver’s neck, humming against the skin.
(By the way; sleepy Tolliver was also one of his favorite things. Mostly he’d seen him like this before going off to work in the morning, kissing him goodbye for the day - though that happened less now since all Hitch was doing was job hunting. So he’d been spending more later mornings at home, trying not to get too complacent or used to it since hopefully that’d be changing soon. Hopefully.)
----------------------------------------------------
An unconscious sigh of relief eased out of Tolliver as soon as Hitch took his hand, like a man who was thirsty and needed water and now had it. He was still drowsy, his eyes fluttering before they fell shut again, Tolliver swallowing and making little sounds of sleepiness. He was aware of Hitch sliding down beside him, curling against him with warm lips on his neck, a soft voice and a hum against his throat.
“Morning,” said Tolliver absently, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand - and then the rest of what Hitch was saying sank into him, and he suddenly felt more awake, more aware of everything.
“Oh.”
Maybe he could try and distract Hitch away from said birthday. Tolliver rolled over and half onto Hitch, taking his face between his hands and kissing him slow and steady, his hair mussed from sleep, his overlarge shirt hanging down over his bare, freckled shoulders.
“Hi,” Tolliver murmured softly against his lips, once he’d pulled away.
----------------------------------------------------
To see that reaction when Tolliver took his hand made Hitch smile; it felt good to feel needed, and it was as vivid a reminder as any that his fiance didn’t just tolerate him or whatever. Not like he thought his lover did that or anything, just. It felt good to be reminded was all. (Plus those little sleepy sounds, dear god he could’ve just laid there and listened to those all ******** day.)
Some part of him wondered, though, or more like worried - did Tolliver react like that because of his nightmares? Because of the night he’d come home drenched in blood that now, with his hand out of a cast, felt like a lifetime ago in spite of the scars? Or was it both, the worst night seeping into fears that already kept him up at night?
‘Oh’. That’s what he had to say to that, ‘oh’. Hitch’s brows arched, but he hardly had time to question it before his lover rolled, catching him in one of those slow, smoldering kisses that warmed him from the inside out. He was grinning at his lover’s sweet little greeting, sliding a hand down to rest on his side, loving the sight of bare, freckled shoulders that practically begged to have his mouth descend on them. There was something just so damn tantalizing about him wearing s**t like that, oversized clothes that made him seem even smaller than he already was.
“Hey to you too, gorgeous, “ he whispered back and kissed Tolliver, though much more shortly and sweetly than the one he’d just been given. “Hungry?"
----------------------------------------------------
He would never tire of waking up to Hitch more than anything else. There was something so incredibly, wonderfully, beautifully reassuring about knowing that his lover was there when Tolliver opened his eyes. Just feeling him breathing, or even just the mornings when Hitch had to leave early, and kissed him goodbye, was enough. There was no alone, not anymore.
The other part, however, was due to the nightmares. There was no getting around them, no escaping them, and waking up to Hitch was a relief, a breath of fresh air, something solid and recognizable and wonderful that he could always count on.
And now, warm and pliable and needy after a restless night of bad dreams and now his damned birthday, all Tolliver wanted was for Hitch not to be reminded of the fact that he was older. He couldn’t do much about the taller part, but he would take what he could get, Tolliver’s fingers warm and firm against the sides of Hitch’s face. His lover didn’t usually wear clothes when sleeping, but Tolliver liked to curl up in oversized shirts of Hitch’s, or just oversized clothes in general, burrowing into them and letting them envelop him.
This particular shirt was just a teeshirt, but due to his skinny frame in general, it was draping down over his shoulders. Freckles dotted almost all of the skin there, blotting and varying shades of brown, too skinny still, but Tolliver wasn’t thinking about food right now. He smiled against Hitch’s lips.
“I’m always hungry for you,” Tolliver murmured, and his fingers delved into Hitch’s hair, Tolliver nibbling absently at his lower lip before kissing him again But a sigh of resignation escaped him, and Tolliver dropped his head down to Hitch’s shoulder.
“Birthday. Right.”
----------------------------------------------------
Logan Hitchcock was many things - and yes, a fool was one of them - but no one could ever claim he didn’t have an eye for detail, for the small stuff. Especially when it came to Tolliver St. James. Warning bells blared at him when he realized his lover’s tone, and this time, there was no little gesture of affection to ward him off. When his lover’s head dropped to his shoulder, Hitch’s fingers almost instantly wound into his hair, running through the longer, dark bangs, a frown on his face that was in no way upset but very much concerned.
“Baby?” he started, and the sensual playfulness was replaced easily with tender softness. “Baby, somethin’s wrong.” He didn’t question if there was or not. That left Tolliver room to deny it and hide if he had half a mind to, and Hitch wasn’t about to give him the option. “What is it?” he asked, sliding his arms around him to embrace him, soothing hands slipping up and down his back.
There was a brief pause, a beat, and then, “Is birthday bacon not your thing? Cause there’s other stuff too.”
----------------------------------------------------
Damn Hitch and his damn intuitiveness.
The man had a frustrating - and admittedly very needed at times - knack for being able to discern and pick out things that Tolliver tried to hide. He had an unbelievable eye for detail, remembering facts and picking up little minutiae without ever batting an eye, something that Tolliver was very definitely not capable of. So it shouldn’t have surprised him in the slightest that Hitch noticed something was wrong.
A soft, muffled laugh escaped him, muted against his lover’s shoulder. Tolliver didn’t pick up his head, just remained bent over, hands curled between the two of them, resting on his chest.
“It’s not the bacon,” Tolliver mumbled. “That smells really good, actually.”
He hesitated, just letting the warmth of those hands seep into him, and then exhaled a long breath.
“It’s...just.” Tolliver felt his chest constrict. “The whole. Birthday thing. The age thing.”
He didn’t elaborate, because he was pretty sure Hitch would know what he was talking about.
----------------------------------------------------
“I shoved some in my mouth before you woke up I’m only a little sorry, “ Hitch supplied quickly, completely deadpan - because knowing now his lover was upset about something, and having gotten a laugh from him once already, there wasn’t a single chance that he wasn’t going to try for another. Tolliver made all of his favorite sounds in the world (competing heavily with the music that’d driven his life for years), and laughter was one of his favorites. Especially now that he knew how little his lover had gotten to do it before they’d come together.
Hitch was silent for a second, his head tilted to a side and a curious look in his dark eyes. “Eh? - that’s all?” He broke into a grin and a soft peal of laughter, tugging his lover’s shirt up so he could slip his hands underneath to stroke at bare, inked skin instead. “Is it really that big of a deal that I’m a couple of years younger babe? - first of all when we’re like - I don’t know - 97 an’ 95 or ******** even 94, that’s like - not gonna matter anymore, an’ there’s a ******** of amazin’ years between here and there anyway. I mean, s**t.”
Not like Tolliver’s feelings didn’t matter or anything. But. “Did I even ********’ tell you how old my mom was when she had me?”
----------------------------------------------------
He couldn’t help but smile at that - of course Hitch had snagged some of the bacon before coming over, Tolliver’s fingers curling against his lover’s chest. He felt his shirt shift, and then those warm, wonderful hands were sliding up and down his bare back, and Tolliver much preferred it this way, skin to skin, the heat of those fingers more than welcome.
He knew it was a silly thing to worry about - but Tolliver was already taller than Hitch, and that alone was enough to make the anxiety skyrocket. Now he was older by several years as well, just another fact he couldn’t help.
“I just…” He blew out a breath. “I dunno.”
He swallowed hard and shook his head in confusion.
“No…?”
----------------------------------------------------
(Whenever the height thing came up - if it ever did - rest assured that would be a fun conversation to have when his boyfriend was secretly more insecure about his utter lack of height than he wanted to admit.)
Hitch gave one of those kinds of laughs that rolled in his chest, rocking his lover, his hands sliding further up - one settling around his shoulder, one tracing slowly down every bump of his spine. It shouldn’t have been that easy to feel them all. “She was sixteen. - y’know, another reason for my - her family to flip their s**t, “ because they weren’t his family, not when they’d rejected him before they’d ever known him. Details! “b*****d baby outta wedlock, their kid was a teen, oh an’ - “
His grin was toothy. It didn’t really seem to phase him all that much, but then, even if he’d been sort of the cause it wasn’t like he’d really been there. “ - the kicker was, the dude that knocked her up was 24. Engaged, too. Oh the humanity, right?” he teased, and one hand slid down to give his lover a playful, light little slap on the a**, snickering softly. “You still feelin’ insecure ‘bout those four years there, lil’ bird? - don’t worry. Give it about 6 months an’ we’ll be back to three.”
(Which was, coincidentally, literally the closest he’d gotten yet to telling Tolliver when his birthday actually was - he’d dodged the question before. More than once with lips in key places.)
“So anyway - you feelin’ better yet, gorgeous? - ‘cause there’s some juicy a** bacon waitin’ for you, y’know.” Even if his words were playful and light, there was still an edge of concern there. “‘Cause today’s special, ‘cause it gave me you, an’ somehow your evil a** twin didn’t strangle you in the womb an’ I’m alive ‘cause you’re here so. Yeah. I’m celebratin’ it.”
----------------------------------------------------
Sixteen. His mother had had him when she was sixteen. Tolliver couldn’t even imagine kissing anyone at sixteen, let alone having a child. He stared down at Hitch, letting his lover’s hands do what they wanted (and yes, he was too skinny, still, not enough to warrant being breakable, but enough that it was something of a concern). The feel of that laugh rolling through him, ebbing through Tolliver as well, made him feel warm and fuzzy and happy.
The little slap to his backside made him squeak, face flushing - and Tolliver made a mental note inside of his head. Six months. It was October, so six months from now was...April. Hitch’s birthday was sometime in April. Probably. And yes, he’d tried to wheedle it out of his boyfriend for quite some time now, and yes, Hitch was very good at dodging, the b*****d.
But the story at least made some of the anxious knot in Tolliver’s stomach loosen a little, as did what his lover was telling him. The expression on his face softened, and his fingers fluttered, shaping the sides of Hitch’s face with tender ease.
“I love you,” said Tolliver softly, and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Okay. All right. We can...we can celebrate.”
Bacon did sound very nice, after all.
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Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 3:03 pm
Hitch wished he could go on and say they didn’t get distracted so they’d stayed on his little mental schedule or whatever, but… well, Tolliver had some egg on his face, and it was kind of all downhill from there. He’d been good though. They’d made out for awhile (a long while), and Tolliver was sporting at least one shiny new birthday present around his collarbone by the time they finally made it out of the house. His arms were pretty full - a bag with tupperware full of ‘birthday leftovers’ inside, some presents, wrapped and secretive (even from Tolliver), and Tolliver’s cane, just in case he got tired along the way - he didn’t need it now but that didn’t rule it out for the day - and then shuffled it all over to one arm so he could go ahead and loop with arm through his lover’s own, lending support that way, too.
Needless to say, though, he left ringing the buzzer up to his fiance.
----------------------------------------------------
The wordless reassurances, the gentle touches - all of them were things that Tolliver craved and loved. Sometimes he had no need to tell Hitch anything, Hitch would just do it, and it was exactly why they were as in tune with one another as they were - because they were able to communicate silently, quietly, tenderly with each other.
He blushed at the husband comment, trying not to repeat the word over and over again inside of his head. Someday - someday soon he was going to actually be Hitch’s husband and vice versa, and the thought was breathless in wonder and happiness.
They absolutely did not make it out of the apartment when they said they would. Tolliver was dizzy and delighted by the time they actually stepped outside, his scarf pulled deliberately over his neck and collar, hand tucked in Hitch’s arm as they walked. He had offered to carry some things, but Hitch, being Hitch, refused, and they made their way to the loft laughing and talking.
The door opened on the second ring to reveal a face identical to Tolliver’s, less so in the hair department, and even lesser so in the expression he wore, which was a mixture of exasperation and dry amusement.
“You didn’t have to bring over the entire bloody apartment,” said Fritz, as he reached out and plucked a few boxes from Hitch’s arms, carting them inside and waving them both in. “I do have things here, you know.”
----------------------------------------------------
“I had those, “ Hitch muttered with a small huff of air as Fritz took some of the boxes. Their faces might be identical, but really, he could’ve told them apart in a heartbeat by the expression alone, even if everything else had been the same. Tolliver just didn’t carry himself like his brother, which was fine by him considering.
Although he couldn’t resist a grin as he stepped inside, leaning in towards his boyfriend and ‘whispering’ (really, he was talking pretty damn loudly), “Yeah, like his bloody ego; ********’ surprised anything else can even fit,” and he nudged Tolliver playfully in the side with his elbow (in his gentle way), snickering and feeling very, very proud of himself.
Or he was up until he set down the rest of the stuff apart from the bag with the food - and he held it out almost as though he were holding something distasteful. “Made too much food. So. Here.” Because there was no way he was coming out and saying he’d made any kind of anything with him in mind. “Should still be warm, so. Yeah. Gonna need that tupperware back.”
He was not remotely anxious about someone who wasn’t his boyfriend eating anything he cooked, clearly. Especially not Fritz. Ew.
----------------------------------------------------
“I’m helping, git,” said Fritz without looking back, moving to set the boxes on the kitchen table. Tolliver, meanwhile, was trying very hard to conceal a smile, stifling a laugh as he stepped inside - though a part of him was strangely anxious about this. He knew that Hitch and Fritz had sort of kind of made up, but the last time the three of them had been in the same room together, things had not gone well at all.
He reached over, fingers sliding through Hitch’s now free hand, and gave it a momentary squeeze before letting go.
“I heard that, by the way,” said Fritz as he turned, only to find Hitch standing there, holding out a box. A suspicious expression was on his face, but he took it anyway, raising an eyebrow.
“All right, then,” he said, as though this was some great sacrifice on his part. He set the box of leftovers on the table and then turned and leaned against it, arms folded across his chest as he gave Hitch an expectant look before flicking his gaze to Tolliver.
“Happy birthday to you, by the way.”
Tolliver had seated himself on the couch, curled up on it automatically, and blushed a little.
“And happy birthday to you too,” he said, with a small smile.
----------------------------------------------------
With Fritz’s back turned, Hitch had made an exaggerated face and mouthed back ‘I’m helping, git’; because he was absolutely the most mature, rational person in the room. Still, he had a hint of a grin on his face, even as he rolled his eyes and snorted. “********, don’t wanna put you out or nothin’, L - loser, “ he stumbled stupidly over the nickname, only because he’d nearly just popped out a Lite-Brite and he couldn’t help it okay, secret identities were stupid. Like he got them and all, and they weren’t really stupid, but damn they were annoying to keep straight. “Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, “ he murmured dryly, fumbling for a second for his cigarettes before remembering this was Fritz’s place and even if Tolliver didn’t used to have a problem with him smoking here, that didn’t mean Fritz would be okay with -
Somewhere in that whole mental process he stopped caring and whipped out the pack anyway, settling on the couch with an unlit one dangling from his lips - and took one of Tolliver’s hands. Whether or not he read nervousness, he could imagine his fiance was probably a little tense, considering. “So what’ve you got planned for today, huh? - anything’ special?” And that sounded remotely like an attempt at genuine small talk. That wouldn’t do. “Also you gonna open any of those or what? Didn’t exactly drag ‘em here for my health y’know.”
He cracked a toothy grin, a cheeky, bold thing.
The presents really weren’t anything amazing or anything - he wasn’t made of money or whatever, and he still had a boyfriend to spoil. But he’d tried. There were some decent brushes in there, some stupid looking romance novels with ridiculous covers, a rather nice scarf that’d be nice for winter… and, well...which Hitch didn’t know if he hoped Fritz opened it first or last.
----------------------------------------------------
If Fritz noticed the almost slip, he didn’t say anything, merely rolled his eyes to the ceiling as though he was praying to some unknown deity for strength. The cigarettes were given a pointed look - it wasn’t as though he was unaware of Tolliver’s habit - but Fritz apparently decided that today was not the day to kick his brother’s boyfriend out, and gave a little if you must gesture with his hand and said, “Crack a window if you’re going to do that.”
Tolliver had threaded his fingers through Hitch’s securely, his other hand reaching to pluck his own cigarette from the pack, which would hopefully ease some of the nervousness. He stuck it between his lips, studiously ignoring the exasperation on Fritz’s face.
“No plans, really,” said Fritz, still leaning against the table with his arms folded. “I thought I might go out and do a little drinking with some friends tonight, but other than that, all I wanted for my birthday was some peace and quiet.”
He did not say what was inside of his head - that he had no one to spend his birthday with - and nothing of this thought registered on Fritz’s face at all, thanks to years of practice in concealing each and every emotion and overlaying it with confidence and ease. The presents were given another suspicious look, but Fritz pushed himself away from the table and turned around to it instead.
“If any of these explode on me, I’m coming back to haunt you,” he said threateningly, and Tolliver hid a smile.
In spite of being particular about his brushes, they were good ones, and truth be told, Fritz hadn’t even expected Hitch to get him anything at all. He set them aside with a slight smile, next to the romance novels that made him crack an actual, wide grin, slightly mischievous (he did so love those trashy books). The scarf was smoothed between his fingers, and he looped it once around his neck, feeling stupidly pleased, and the last present -
”I’m gonna bloody kill you - “
Tolliver’s expression was torn between horror and amusement, and he buried his face in Hitch’s shoulder, trying desperately not to laugh and losing entirely to a fit of giggles, though at the same time, wishing he could sink through to the floor. Fritz, on the other hand, chucked a box lid across the room at Hitch - which was more like chucking a piece of cardboard than anything actually dangerous.
“You bloody b*****d - “
----------------------------------------------------
“Yes Mom.”
Sporting a cheeky grin, Hitch dropped the pack of cigarettes in his lap once Tolliver had taken his, leaning back, arching to go ahead and pop the window open, stubbornly holding onto his boyfriend’s hand all the while - it was probably no surprise to Tolliver at all that he pulled it off with minimal effort, sliding back down onto the cushions again to light them both up.
Maybe not a damn thing registered on Fritz’s face, but… “An’ lookit us, comin’ on over an’ ********’ up your one wish,” he teased around the cigarette, taking a long drag and laughing deeply. He pursed his lips for a second, like he was in thought, then, “Anyway. Maybe I ain’t a friend, but we’re still takin’ you for a drink sometime. Or like - you could stop by, or whatever.” He shrugged his shoulders almost dismissively and looked away, vaguely embarrassed to be the one to bring it up. But he knew it’d make Tolliver happy, and ******** if he hadn’t learned by now that neither of those losers were going to come out and say it. (Plus he was kind of separating them on their birthday. It wasn’t exactly like he felt bad or anything, but…) “It’d be cheaper. Just sayin’. Plus, I bet you’re a sloppy a** drunk, so.”
He just kind of let that sit there and ferment, yup.
Then, he snorted a laugh. “Like I’d ********’ risk your dramatic a** haunting me. <********>, you’d never shut up.”
Hitch fidgeted a little when he opened the presents, stupidly. It wasn’t like he really cared what Fritz thought of them or whatever, but... just. Whatever. (Quietly, he was pleased to see the slow smile spread across Fritz’s face, a sense of accomplishment bolstering him. It wasn’t even that he cared whether Fritz actually liked him or not, exactly, just… it was complicated. Especially with his and Tolliver’s engagement, now, even if Fritz didn’t know it.)
Then it was time (he’d started shaking with silent little snickers before Fritz had even opened the box), and the reaction was everything Hitch wanted it to be, laughing so hard there were tears at the corners of his eyes. The box lid literally smacked him straight in the side of the head and he only laughed harder when it did. “But look! Now you’ve got a date for tonight! Lucky ******** chose, probably wisely, not to comment on the yes, mom.
Tolliver had leaned forward to let Hitch light his cigarette, the familiar scent of smoke easing through the room. His brother had never approved of his habit, but had never, at least, tried to kick him out because of it. Tolliver had started smoking when he was seventeen, and while he wasn’t as intensely addicted as Hitch was, he still had cravings - and right now he very much needed the distraction.
On the other hand, Fritz was still maintaining his usual air of confidence, and gave Hitch a look that clearly indicated he had zero intention of taking him up on his offer, mostly just on principle His mouth opened, as though to actually say this - but one look at the glimmer of hope in Tolliver’s eyes made him switch tactics abruptly.
“Maybe I’ll stop by sometime soon,” Fritz said instead, and saw the tension in his brother’s shoulders ease, just a little bit. “And for the record, I am a bloody fantastic drunk, thank you very much.
Tolliver was still gasping with laughter against his lover’s shoulder, clinging to him with his face buried in his arm, cigarette held in one free hand, the other still wound together with Hitch’s. His face was so red that it felt rather like it was going to simply explode, but Fritz wasn’t red at all - most likely because he was too busy trying not to kill his brother’s boyfriend.
He grabbed the box and stalked over to the pair of them, red hair falling about his face, a slightly manic gleam in his eyes.
“You bloody b*****d, I’m going to - “
A car alarm went off outside at that exact moment.
----------------------------------------------------
The car alarm, really, the timing couldn’t have been any better - and Hitch was just laughing harder, trying to calm the sound by the back of his hand clutching the cigarette against his face, his face burning only because no, really, he was ******** crying over here, that’s how hard he was cracking up. It didn’t even matter what Fritz was about to say, it was all about the timing, and it was just so -
“On that ********’ note, “ he choked out, rubbing his face with the back of his hand to try and clean himself up a bit, even if he was still giggling like mad, even more tickled that he’d made Tolliver crack on up with him. So ******** worth it. “We should probably, y’know. Give him some space. Let him get acquainted with Sally Jane over there.”
----------------------------------------------------
Fritz’s profanities were lost in the midst of the car alarm, which was probably a good thing. Tolliver was laughing helplessly against Hitch, who was laughing so hard he was crying, the two of them quite the pair. But at the same time, it felt good to laugh as much as he was, and there were tears in the corners of Tolliver’s eyes as his laughter subsided to fits of giggles instead - though a fresh wave caught him at Sally Jane.
Fritz was looking thunderous - and exasperated.
“You’re both gits,” he said. ”Out.”
(Though there was a hint of a smile on his face, as though he was fighting not to show it.)
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch managed to bite back his laughter, finally, barely - just ******** barely - and he leaned in close to his lover, tilting his head and whispering, rather simply, into his ear, just barely loud enough for him to hear: “Watch this.” And for just a moment, he disentangled himself from his lover and rose from the couch, cigarette dangling loosely from the corner of his lips.
And if Fritz didn’t see it coming, he really should have; abruptly Hitch’s arms were around him and he was squeezing tight, swaying him stupidly back and forth, and really, he was just trying so ******** hard not to start laughing again. “Happy birthday you lame-a** Weasley ******** his voice dropped, and he spoke much more quietly as he added, “Try an’ enjoy yourself a little Lite-Brite, huh? - you only get this old once.”
----------------------------------------------------
Tolliver lifted his head, swiping at his eyes, and looked curiously at Hitch, trying to figure out what he was doing. A second later, it became clear, because Fritz had a split second of dawning comprehension appear on his face.
“Don’t you da - “
A yell escaped Fritz as Tolliver dissolved into laughter, burying his reddened face in his hands. Fritz kicked his legs, struggling against Hitch’s arms in an attempt to free himself - but, like last time, Hitch was nothing if not stubborn, and his grasp was completely secure.
“I’M GONNA BLOODY KILL YOU,” Fritz bellowed, but he turned his head slightly at Lite-Brite, a scowl touching his lips.
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” he grumbled, but he stopped fighting quite so hard.
----------------------------------------------------
It went without saying, really, that Hitch actually sort of loved this game - and it was made about ten times better by the sound of Tolliver’s laughter, the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard (among others he could make), ringing in the background.
“You’ve been sayin’ that a lot today, Weasley - an’ yeah, I love you too, “ he teased with a cocky grin complete with a flash of teeth and a batting of his eyes. And, again, quietly, he murmured, “I know not me, but you need to hear it from someone, an’ - well I’m here so - yeah.”
He squeezed tighter, his eyes going wide, comically, as he hissed intensely, “Okay so now admit you’re the evil one, do it.”
----------------------------------------------------
“I do not,” said Fritz. ”Love you.”
He was going to kill Hitch. That was what was going to happen. He was going to kill Hitch, and bury his body in the backyard, and yes, well, Tolliver would be sad, but then he would move on, and all would be well, all would be just fine, except maybe he’d have to plant a garden atop the grave just so no one would get suspicious.
Tolliver was still laughing, face covered by his hands to stifle the giggles, so he didn’t notice the quiet whispers among his brother and boyfriend. Fritz’s cheeks pinked ever so slightly, and he turned his head away from Hitch, lips pressed together in a thin line. He was not going to let this man be the one to tell him that, no - but - his chest felt tighter, somehow.
“No,” Fritz said stubbornly. ”Never.”
And he elbowed Hitch in the stomach.
----------------------------------------------------
“Uhm, actually, that’s about the third time you’ve said it - and aw, Fritz, how sweet! I’m moved, touched, really, “ and he cracked a stupidly ridiculous grin, because he knew full well what Fritz actually meant, but ******** if he wasn’t going to go ahead and ******** him him a little more.
The elbow connected, although it wasn’t like Fritz was out to actually kill him or anything (probably) and left him winded, his grip slacking and his laughter more of a wheeze. He did release Fritz, yes, but did shamelessly take advantage to pat him on the cheek with the palm of his hand - because clearly someone’s blood pressure wasn’t high enough today.
“Take good care of Sally Jane, bro. - she looks tough but she’s got a delicate heart, “ he teased.
----------------------------------------------------
Fritz was, at the very least, not conspiring to kill Hitch on this particular day. It would not do well to commit homicide on his birthday, after all.
(Maybe tomorrow.)
Hitch’s hand was batted away and a look of outrage appeared on Fritz’s face, jaw dropping. Tolliver, on the other hand, took this as his cue to scramble (slowly) to his feet, hastily scooting over to Hitch and taking ahold of his fingers.
“We should go,” he said quickly, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, as though fighting some internal war within himself, Tolliver let go of Hitch and leaned over to Fritz, looping his arms around his brother’s neck and hugging him securely. Fritz’s arms flailed for a second, obviously startled - but then his eyes fluttered half-lidded and he wrapped his own around Tolliver’s thinner, slighter shoulders and back. His grip was tight - and his gaze flickered up to rest briefly on Hitch’s face. There was none of the exasperation left; instead, there was something very vulnerable in Fritz’s eyes, something more open than he usually expressed.
And then it was gone, just as quickly as it had come. Tolliver leaned back, and Fritz’s smile was back in place. He patted his brother’s cheek affectionately, similar to how Hitch had patted his - then reached over and swatted his brother’s boyfriend on the head.
“All right, all right, enough of this,” he said airily, and Fritz was padding towards the kitchen now, waving a hand dismissively. “Get out of here, idiots.”
----------------------------------------------------
Probably just as well, because there’s no way Hitch wouldn’t have just kept right on going with it. (It wasn’t really his fault. Fritz made it really ******** easy.) His boyfriend’s fingers wrapped around his, though, that got him to stop.
Especially since they were hugging, and the last thing he really wanted to do was anything that might ruin that. He even went so far as to just take a step back, giving them a little more space and kind of just appreciating the sight with a smile. After everything the two of them had been through - a lot of it because of Hitch, even if he kind of knew he was more of a trigger than the whole of the ammunition - he could appreciate how much this meant.
Fritz’s glance surprised him - and it was only for that fleeting second, but - what was that look? Was he happy? - no, it wasn’t entirely happy, and it wasn’t grateful or anything (Hitch didn’t need ‘thank you’s for putting right what he’d set wrong in the first place), was it? - it was - what, exactly? It was raw, it was open, it was -
Over. Over and gone, just like that. Hitch remained staring for a second or two longer, processing, before that swat on his head made him grunt and smirk, mumbling something like ‘stupid tall b*****d’ before he, too, was gone. “You’re a sloppy ********’ drunk till you come an’ prove me wrong!” he barked over him, greedily claiming Tolliver’s arm for himself now that he felt less like he had to be cautious - not that he ever wouldn’t cling to his fiance, just -
That look on Fritz’s face, though.
“So hey, baby,” he murmured, taking his cane and swinging it dramatically back and forth - and nearly hitting the table, which definitely would’ve won him brownie points with Fritz, for sure. He cleared his throat and tried to pretend that hadn’t just happened, his cheeks burning a little. “You ready for Birthday, Phase 2?”
----------------------------------------------------
“Not a sloppy drunk, you git!” Fritz yelled, from across the room. There was no trace of the open vulnerability now, just normal Fritz St. James, plucking off the lids of tupperware containers and peering into them. Neither one of them would know that his heart was slowly sinking lower in his chest with each movement, because his eyes were just as carefully controlled as the rest of his emotions were, hidden behind the layers of casual, confident banter.
Tolliver, meanwhile, had taken ahold of his lover back, sliding an arm around his waist and looking at him rather adoringly (it was a good thing his brother wasn’t looking). He snuggled closer, and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Hitch’s cheek briefly.
“I’m ready,” he said, a little shyly, though he had no idea what on earth Hitch had planned, other than this - and what they’d already done in the morning.
“I thought I told you too gross idiots to get out,” said Fritz. “Don’t make out in my living room, please.”
----------------------------------------------------
“You are until you prove me wrong, you uh… sconey wanker!” he called back, then put a hand over his mouth and mumbled questioningly to Tolliver, “Is that even a thing? Do you actually use that? - it’s definitely a thing. Right?”
He worried, quietly, although he’d never actually come out and admit it, about Fritz. No, Hitch still didn’t wholly know how to read him, and only begrudgingly sort of liked him (that might’ve been an understatement or an overstatement, depending on Hitch’s mood), but… that look. It made him think right back to the day Celsus had gone and broken down on him.
Hitch wished, and didn’t wish, that Fritz hadn’t done that. On one hand, it was good. Everything had gotten better since then. On the other hand, he sort of… felt responsible now. Like maybe he’d been given something more than he deserved or could handle with the kind of grace it needed. He hadn’t wanted to be invested in Fritz, and now for better or worse, he was.
And he worried.
“This place’s seen worse than makin’ out!” he called out rather too cheerfully - and then grasped his lover more firmly by the arm and mouthed, ‘run’, snickering fiendishly before he tugged Tolliver along with him right out the door. “Sorry babe, he just - he makes it so easy, ” he snorted out once they were safely out of range, leaning over and nuzzling against the side of his lover’s face with a few residual snickers still bubbling out of him.
----------------------------------------------------
”Sconey wanker?” Tolliver repeated, giggling as he leaned into Hitch. “I’m not - well, I mean wanker is a thing, not so sure about sconey - “
Fritz was now ladeling leftovers onto a plate to stick in the microwave. His back to the others, outwardly he presented every picture of the usual man he was, full of confidence and ease and lightheartedness, the ideal twin brother supporting his brother and his boyfriend on their birthday.
Inwardly, however, was an entirely different story.
A plastic lid was flung after Hitch as they scrambled out the door.
“YOU BASTARDS!” Fritz yelled, but then the door was shut, and the two of them were halfway down the hall, into the elevator.
Tolliver leaned against his lover once they were secluded safely away. “He’s a good guy, even if he does make it easy,” he said with a little laugh, his cheeks pink. “But…” And his eyes shone with adoration as he looked over at Hitch. “Thank you for...for letting us come over and spend time with him, and for, you know...being good to him.”
He pressed his lips briefly to Hitch’s.
“I love you.”
----------------------------------------------------
He didn’t stop laughing until they were on the elevator, and his eyes were still bright with tears of amusement.
A surge of adoration rose up in Hitch as he leaned in and caught Tolliver’s lips again, reaching in with his free hand to trace the line of his jaw before he pulled away, smiling at him. “Letting’ - baby, no - encouragin’, yes. But you don’t need me to let you do nothin’. So let’s save the permission stuff for bed, yeah?” he purred playfully, pressing another light kiss to Tolliver’s lip.
Though Hitch couldn’t resist snorting, his eyes dark with amusement. “Seriously though, babe, if you call that bein’ good - I gotta worry about you?” he teased, nudging him gently in the ribs.
An arm slid around his lover’s waist in a half-hug, drawing him closer still, Hitch briefly nuzzling into his shoulder with a low hum. “Love you too - so much - so ********’ much -” And he stayed there for a second as he grinned. “Where do you think we’re goin’, huh? Wanna guess?”
----------------------------------------------------
Tolliver’s eyes fluttered shut, a happy hum escaping him as Hitch kissed him again. Little moments like these - soft, sweet, affectionate moments that were accompanied by gentle kisses and adoring eyes and words - made him feel thrills of pleasure and happiness, warm in his heart.
His face flushed red at the insinuation, heat across his cheeks, and Tolliver averted his gaze, shy in spite of the fact that he leaned forward and grazed a kiss against his lover’s jaw.
“Bed it is,” he murmured, and then withdrew, but not far, snuggling against Hitch securely. His boyfriend’s arms were around him, holding him close, and Tolliver felt very warm and very, very satisfied.
“Your support means everything to me,” Tolliver said softly. “Thank you.”
The elevator door dinged and Tolliver reluctantly eased himself away from Hitch, catching his hand and lacing their fingers together. He turned his head and then let out a small, embarrassed laugh.
“I’m really bad at guessing things,” said Tolliver, blushing. “But I, ah...you know you didn’t have to do anything for me, right? I’ll be happy with whatever it is.”
----------------------------------------------------
The soft words, that Hitch’s actions were not only important but everything, make him grin kind of stupidly, boyishly, vaguely flustered, but only for a second before the elevator door dinged and they were out again, back in the wide world instead of their own.
None of this stopped him from clutching his lover’s fingers so tightly in his own, laughing when Tolliver said something silly like that. “You’re funny, babe - like you thought I wasn’t gonna do anythin’ ,” he teased, leaning over and up a little to brush his lips warmly against his lover’s temple.
It wouldn’t take too long to get to where they were going from there, and Tolliver would probably be able to fit the pieces together real fast: a movie theater. It was such a stupid, simple thing to do and really not enough for a birthday celebration, even if there was more to come after this and all, but… in all their little dates, most of them revolved around bars, walking, dancing, or just something fun and quiet at home. They hadn’t really done something like this yet, the simple thing that was going out and seeing a movie like most couples did.
“Trainwreck,” Hitch explained, gesturing at the sign. “It came out, uh, earlier this year but - it was real ********’ popular so they put it back in for a few weeks?” Please be excited. Please want to see it.
----------------------------------------------------
Tolliver turned his head into the touch, nuzzling against him, and there was a tiny smile on his face, a little, shy laugh escaping him as he squeezed Hitch’s fingers.
“I never thought you weren’t, going to do anything,” he said honestly. “I rather expected you to, I just thought I’d tell you, you know, that you didn’t have to.”
But he’d known all along that Hitch would do something - that he would have never let it slide, not in a million years. By the time they reached their destination, Tolliver was leaning more fully against Hitch, his arm laced through his lover’s, their clasped fingers held together in the pocket on Hitch’s coat to stay warm.
“A movie?” Tolliver asked, and then glanced at the sign, his eyes widening. “Oh! Oh, this is that one with Amy Schumer, isn’t it? Oh, I wanted to see this!”
He turned to Hitch, his eyes bright with excitement. “Is this where we’re going?”
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch grinned at the key differences between the words, and he felt stupidly light and fluttery to be out with his boyfriend somewhere with him nuzzling him. - really, he wished he could do things like this for him more, just take him out somewhere nice.
“See, though, that becomes a moot point when you know I want to, “ he murmured softly to him.
(He loved it when Tolliver leaned against him like that.)
A surge of sheer warm joy rushed through him when Tolliver looked at him like that. “Oh no, we’re definitely here to see Hotel Transylvania 2,” he teased. “No, but yeah, that’s the one - I know you like this kinda thing, so - “ Chick flicks, romantic comedies, any kind of romantic story really. The sensitive stuff. “We’re gonna go see it. We’re gonna go, an’ we’re gonna eat a ton of s**t overpriced food, an’ it’s gonna be ********’ great, “ he declared rather proudly.
----------------------------------------------------
It was such a small and simple thing, really. A movie in an actual movie theater. But they did not have a television at home, and they did not have computers, things that Tolliver had never actually minded before. He had a laptop he used occasionally for work instances - such as looking up jobs or checking on his and Fritz’s comic, which had started up again - but other than that, it sat on a shelf in the apartment, because there was no internet there, and he only ever used it when brought to a cafe or coffee shop or somewhere that had internet.
And he didn’t mind, truly - he loved that most of his time, when he was not being productive, was spent lazily reading, or just being with Hitch.
This was different, though - this was something maybe mundane to others, but to the two of them it was a treat, it was a date, and it made Tolliver’s heart swell.
He turned to Hitch, placed both hands on the side of his face, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. When Tolliver pulled away, his cheeks were flushed with pleasure, and he took ahold of his lover’s hand and arm again, nuzzling happily against his shoulder.
“I can’t wait,” he said excitedly, even though, well, he’d tried his hardest to hide the fact that he liked chick flicks from Hitch - but a part of him, in spite of his burning cheeks, didn’t mind so much today.
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Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 3:10 pm
By the time the credits came, Tolliver was wiping his eyes, none too subtly, and he let out a squeak as Hitch dragged him close, a fit of giggles overtaking him to ease him from the emotional rollercoaster ride. He burrowed into his lover, kissing whatever part of him that he could, and tried not to smile too much - but it was very hard, and Tolliver was not used to smiling this much, ever.
“I can eat a little,” he said, beaming adoringly at Hitch. “Are we going some place?”
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch didn’t say anything when Tolliver asked; he just grinned and ruffled his hair, only begrudgingly parting from his lover long enough to slip his coat back on again. Then he went ahead and gathered up all their trash and winked at his fiance before running off ahead, just a short ways, to throw it out for them. In no time at all he was back again, interlacing his fingers with his boyfriend’s own and shoving them both into his coat pocket with a cheeky grin before he started leading them both out the door.
The walk would not be a long one, but Hitch filled it with stupid conversation, like which jokes worked and which didn’t in the movie, which ones were kind of too pop culture for him and he just didn’t get and Tolliver was smart so he probably got it right yeah. “It’s almost Halloween time,” he remarked idly as they were drawing closer, eyeing the orange and black decorations in a shop. He was still holding Tolliver’s cane in his free hand, and his other hand still had his lover’s tucked into his pocket - so instead, he blew lightly at his boyfriend’s bangs, smirking.
“Literally your holiday now babe, you’re all color-coordinated an’ s**t.”
----------------------------------------------------
The cheeky silence was met with a certain amount of confusion, but Tolliver went along with it, because Hitch being excited was endearing and wonderful and sweet all at once, not to mention a little infectious. He followed his lover out of the theater, hands clasped together, held in the pocket of his coat, Tolliver leaning warmly against Hitch’s arm so that they were snuggled together.
He turned his head to look at him as they walked, his face tinging pink.
“I’m not color coordinated,” he mumbled, blushing, but he leaned to kiss Hitch’s cheek affectionately, wrinkling his nose at the breath on his face, in his hair.
“Where are we going? Are you going to tell me?”
----------------------------------------------------
“You’re totally Halloween colors babe,” Hitch teased with the hint of a playful grin. “It’s cute. - I love Halloween y’know,” and didn’t it just make sense that he would? Look at him. “We should like, I don’t know - borrow some ********’ DVDs an’ watch some creepy movies on your laptop or somethin’. When it gets closer. - d’you even like scary movies?” he asked in a thoughtful way that said he hadn’t really considered it before.
He didn’t exactly have a ton of technology growing up, but back when he’d had a band and a handful of friends - actually the band sort of was his handful of friends - they’d done that kind of thing, piling into the drummer’s house to watch some freaky movies and eat some candy. It’d been fun, a lot of fun. “Or we could totally slice up some sheets an’ go pretend to be really ********’ tall five year olds. Free candy. <******** yes.”
Then, he snorted, shaking his head. “I’m gettin’ real off-topic here, ******** me. Sorry, I’m just - ” He laughed in that way he did when he was vaguely embarrassed, although the look in his eyes was nothing short of cheery. “I’m happy I get to like - do this s**t with you. Like birthdays an’ Halloween an’ s**t.” He almost said he hadn’t done anything last year, but it was pretty obvious why, and this was a good day so he really didn’t want to meander down that ******** road.
All of this was a nice distraction from actually answering Tolliver’s question, at least until they got there. It was an Italian place, because as much as they always went to pubs and bars and it was ******** amazing - Hitch kind of wanted to take him some place a little different, and he knew Tolliver never complained when he made Italian food. So he’d bothered Jarias to look s**t up for him, Yelp or whatever it was, back as far as a month ago.
It wasn’t one of those super fancy places, instead one of the types to put a modern, colorful twist on everything from the decor to the food. But it was new and popular, enough that there were a lot of people waiting for a table. Fortunately, as they stepped up to the counter, it quickly became apparent that Hitch totally had this s**t covered.
“Uh. Hitchcock-St. James, please,” he murmured, his cheeks burning faintly but a smile on his face.
----------------------------------------------------
There was a little smile on Tolliver’s face as he glanced over at Hitch, his cheeks warming. “I like some scary movies,” he said. “Not all of them, not the ones that are, you know, really violent and bloody and all of that. I don’t like any of those at all, those are really frightening.” His nose wrinkled a little, freckles shifting on his face at the change in expression. “But, um, there are a few that I don’t mind so much.”
It didn’t surprise him that Hitch liked Halloween, and the idea of going out dressed as ghosts to get free candy made him giggle, Tolliver placing his free hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. He leaned and pecked a kiss to his lover’s cheek, smiling against the warmth before pulling back.
“We’ll do something,” he said, voice a promise, and then blinked and felt the blush start creeping across his face, his cheeks reddening into a deep scarlet.
“Me too,” he blurted out, and then hastily reigned it back in, blushing further. “I’m...I’m glad I glad to spend these things with you - and...and Christmas, too,” he added, a little tentatively. Before they gotten unexpectedly and unceremoniously engaged, and before they’d even said I love you for the first time, Tolliver had already known that he wanted to spend his holidays with Logan Hitchcock - but it had been a distant, wistful sort of want. He hadn’t wanted to think about the future in case it never came.
But now - now it would, because he was going to spend the rest of his life with Hitch.
Their location became apparent a short time later, and Tolliver’s eyes widened as they stepped into the crowded, colorful building, his gaze trying to take in everything all at once, mouth dropping open in surprise. And inside, once the name had been given, Tolliver felt his stomach squirm, felt warmth spread all over him entirely, his fingers grasping Hitch’s tightly inside of their shared pocket.
“Wh - what is this place?” he asked in awe, voice a low whisper.
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch laughed softly when Tolliver wrinkled his nose, and without missing a beat, he tucked the cane under his arm and gently poked at the tip of his nose with his index finger, knowing it’d probably just make him do it again. “You’re so ********’ cute,” he rumbled adoringly. “That’s so ********’ like you babe. Like, I feel you though,” and he waved that free hand in the air - for all he teased Fritz about being ******** theatrical, Hitch relied a lot on gestures to emphasize his points.
“Like violence doesn’t really bug me,” really look at him, why would it? “But like, I don’t know. I get kinda bored when it’s like a blood fest, y’know? If I’m watchin’ horror, like I wanna be scared, an’ it’s like - I don’t know. I know the blood an’ violence I’m seein’ are fake, but like, with ghosts or some like, deeper threat, it’s like what am I even lookin’ at? - I’d rather be kept guessin’ than have it spelled out too an’ - am I even ********’ makin’ sense anymore?” he cut off suddenly with a rather rowdy laugh, shoving his other hand deep into his pocket. “Y’know what I mean though, you get me, right?”
The kiss to his cheek made him positively beam, and he held his head a little higher after that. “I can’t wait,” he murmured - and really, something could be them laying in bed and eating all the candy for the kids together while ignoring the door and that’d be fine by him. That was still something. As long as they were together and enjoying the holiday and each other, it was something.
Christmas. He’d mentioned Christmas on his own, and that made Hitch’s eyes flush with pleasure, his gaze dropping and then rising again. “Yeah. Christmas.” He didn’t say it, but if he had to pick a favorite at gunpoint… it’d definitely be Christmas with Halloween a close second. It’d be nice to celebrate it properly this year, no matter how small it was.
Then he cringed, playfully, as he added, “Think we should probably stay in for New Year’s though, yeah?” and then laughed.
Hitch’s smile was a million miles wide, and he barely bit back a laugh as he leaned to whisper into his lover’s ear, “This is what we call a restaurant, babe,” and then he really did laugh. In no time at all they were led off to a table set off in one of the quieter areas, with a candle because why not, candles were ******** romantic as hell. And Hitch went ahead and pulled Tolliver’s chair out for him, all gentlemanly and all.
----------------------------------------------------
He admittedly did not feel the same - violence, to an extent, bothered Tolliver, but he saw no reason for Hitch not to mind this. Being together and being in love did not translate to always having to like exactly the same things, and that was okay. If Hitch wanted to watch those types of movies, then Tolliver had no issues with it - as long as he didn’t get dragged into watching them with his love.
“Yeah,” said Tolliver softly, “I got you.”
He was being sappy again, but it was his birthday - he was allowed to be a little self-indulgent on today of all days. He knew Hitch liked the holidays, loved them, even, especially considering the reactions he gave to just a simple mention of Christmas. Happy butterflies were exploding in the pit of Tolliver’s stomach, adoration in all the best ways directed towards Hitch. He heard New Year’s and it made him wrinkle his nose and laugh, Tolliver snuggling against his lover.
“Maybe that would be best, yes,” he murmured, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, he said softly, “We had a bad New Year’s last year, we should...make up for that, this year.”
It was also when he’d first met Hitch, which automatically made it special. But Tolliver’s mind was currently focused on their destination, on the waitress as she led them down the crowded tables to their own, which was set slightly apart and had a small votive nestled in the center, casting a glowing light across the silverware.
Tolliver stared in amazement, eyes wide as Hitch pulled the chair out for him.
“T-thank you,” he said, sitting down and wondering if it was possible to feel any more special than he already did. “Logan, this is - this is...you did all of this? For me?”
----------------------------------------------------
The only way Hitch would ever come anywhere close to dragging Tolliver into a movie like that is if he had a guarantee his lover would stay burrowed and hiding and whining against his side the whole time - because ******** yes that would be ******** adorable as hell. But he was sure there were nicer ways to do it.
Like right now. This kind of snuggling was also nice, Tolliver burrowing into him as they walked together. “If by make up for it you mean no ********’ masquerades with talkin’ alien cats shootin’ lasers ever again please ******** no, then yes,” he teased - even if it was a special day, really. And he knew he’d find a way to make it special ********>. They were going to be married by then, probably, yeah? - the thought made him stupidly giddy, and something about his step got lighter at the realization.)
Once Tolliver was seated, Hitch laid a hand lightly on his shoulder, squeezing him once. “It ain’t much,” he said quietly, and his lover wouldn’t be able to see the way his eyes dropped for a split second, still wishing that even though he had more up his sleeve that there could’ve been so much more. His hand fell away, and there was a slight rustling as Hitch fished for something in his pocket - again, not that he meant for Tolliver to see - and a few seconds later, something was dropped around his neck, two golden rings and a silver wing hanging from a leather string.
Then, both hands were on Tolliver’s shoulders as Hitch leaned down to kiss his hair, resting his cheek lightly against it as he murmured deeply, “But yeah. It’s for you baby.”
----------------------------------------------------
Tolliver very much wanted to have a New Year’s that did not involve anything of the sort, whether they were talking alien cats or people in masks, or anything at all except for Hitch and maybe some of their other friends. And by “other,” Tolliver meant Hitch’s friends, because that was an area in which he himself was sorely lacking. It was a rather depressing thought, but Tolliver pushed it aside in favor of thinking about the fact that by then they would be husbands.
“You know what this means, though,” said Tolliver, a little shyly, his eyes twinkling. “It means that I have someone to kiss when the clock strikes midnight.”
And he left it at that, his cheeks flushed with pleasure.
The restaurant was not fancy, no, but it was perfect. Bright, colorful, friendly, with a very welcoming atmosphere - and romantic in the way that it was just a pleasant place to be, the candlelight spreading over his silverware and the rest of the tablecloth to make everything glow warmly and sweetly. Tolliver couldn’t stop staring at everything, his gaze wide-eyed and trying to memorize each and every small feature, from the glasses to the spoons to the forks, to the napkins tucked neatly aside.
A hand was briefly on his shoulder - and then there was a rustling noise, and then something slightly cool and metallic hit his collarbone gently. Tolliver blinked, startled, his fingers automatically rising to pull the necklace away from his neck so that he could see it.
His heart almost stopped. A welling sense of shock and love and affection and everything all at once seemed to surge upwards, heat spreading across his face, a stinging sensation at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening as he stared at the little pendants. His hand trembled a little, Tolliver momentarily losing his voice.
It didn’t matter that it was a small thing, it mattered that it was a thing at all.
“L...Logan,” he managed to get out, voice thick.
----------------------------------------------------
Someone to kiss when the clock strikes midnight. Although no words needed to be said, Hitch’s smile said everything of what he thought of those words coupled with the twinkle in his lover’s eyes, and he leaned in to kiss his cheek again, feeling not for the first time today that there couldn’t have possibly been a luckier man in the world than him.
That excitable look on his face as Tolliver’s gaze skimmed the room was nothing short of adorable. That was something Hitch would not soon forget either.
A tiny surge of nerves had welled up in him when Tolliver actually looked at the necklace, but it was short-lived, because in a lot of ways his lover was just as sentimental as he was. Not as good with dates, no, but he still got as invested in the small things as Hitch did, and he knew by the shaking of his lover’s hand and his silence that he’d probably done a good thing. One stolen glance at his face, head tilting enough to the side and down to catch a profile, confirmed it - and that was when Hitch allowed himself to smile, wrapping his arms around his lover’s shoulders in a proper embrace.
“I love you, baby. - happy birthday.”
----------------------------------------------------
He was not going to burst out into tears in the middle of their date, in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Tolliver blinked rapidly, trying to dispel some of the brightness in his eyes, his chest tightening to the point of being hard to breathe. A hand lifted and swiped at his eyes as he furiously tried to keep his emotions in check, but it was hard when Hitch had his arms around him and was hugging him so tenderly and adoringly.
A half choked sob escaped him.
“I love you,” Tolliver managed to get out, and his fingers closed around the necklace as he took a deep, steadying breath. “T-thank you, Logan, really. Thank you, I love it.”
----------------------------------------------------
“Good,” Hitch breathed out, sounding light and relieved, as genuinely pleased as he felt. He reached up with one hand to brush the bangs out of his lover’s eyes, twirling one of the two longer locks around his fingers with a soft hum of delight. “I’m glad, baby.”
Because it’d needed to be the right one. He’d searched long and hard and finally come across the one dangling around Tolliver’s neck, not the most expensive, but easily the most fitting - not too gaudy, not too plain, not too cheap, not too much. A symbol of their union and of the way he saw his lover when he moved, free and happy like he was supposed to be.
Finally, almost begrudgingly, Hitch pulled away, swiping a knuckle gently beneath his lover’s eye and flashing him a lopsided grin as he eased into the seat beside him. He took Tolliver’s hand in his own and brushed his lips across the back of his lover’s hand. “So, here - get whatever you want,” and he tugged out a menu with his free hand. “They’re supposed to have really good pasta dishes here, but like, everythin’s supposed to be real ********’ tasty - big portions an’ s**t -”
----------------------------------------------------
Every time he secretly debated cutting his hair, Tolliver thought of how much he would miss Hitch’s hands in it, his fingers twining adoringly around the strands (or yanking hard…). His fingers rose now to hold the necklace as though it was some wonderful, beautiful treasure - which it was - and then closed around it, holding it to his chest where he could cradle it, Tolliver still utterly in awe.
He felt the loss significantly as Hitch pulled away, and his eyes fluttered as his lover kissed his hand, a blush spreading across his freckled cheeks.
“Okay,” he said, and swallowed hard, flipping open the menu and starting to look down at everything, eyes wide.
(His hand remained where it was, closed around the necklace, curled into his chest.)
----------------------------------------------------
Dinner was, in fact, lovely - and even if it wasn’t for him, Hitch enjoyed it a lot. The food was delicious. Tolliver liked his (first) present. They kept talking and laughing, and Hitch just kept doing ridiculous things like shoving too many pieces of free bread in his mouth or shooting straw wrappers because he just couldn’t get enough of his boyfriend laughing today. Especially when he mixed it up here and there, going from playful to sensual, feeding his boyfriend little sips of wine (he was more of a bourbon guy than a wine guy, but this place was apparently super known for his wine and it went well with the food so whatever) and bites of his food while resting his hand on his lover’s thigh beneath the table, thumb rubbing idle circles through his jeans.
Then, finally, after the food was done and gone - whether Tolliver had suspected it or not, who could guess - eventually the waiter showed up with a piece of delectable looking cake, a candle stuck in the top, and set it down on the table. “Would you like us to sing happy birthday?” he asked pleasantly.
Hitch shook his head and waved him off. “No, no, it’s cool - I got this. Thanks though.” Because he wasn’t about to have a gaggle of waiters come up and serenade him in the middle of a busy restaurant. Like, sure it’d be funny, but it’d probably have made his boyfriend feel awkward - the spotlight was better when it was just the two of them. More personal this way anyway. He grinned toothily, cracking his knuckles. “So you get a choice baby - birthday kiss, tone deaf rendition of the birthday song, or all of the above.”
(Did he really actually get a choice? - who knew with Hitch, really.)
----------------------------------------------------
It was one of the most wonderful dinners that Tolliver had ever had, even more so than the one he’d taken Hitch too so many months earlier. The atmosphere was beautifully light hearted at times and quietly, softly sensual in others, the two of them often caught in silently tender gazes by the arrival of food or drinks or anything else. The hand on his leg was covered by one of Tolliver’s own, fingers tangled together.
And it was perfect. It was a date. They had not often done things like this before - hardly even at all, if ever. Dinner and a movie, and it was such a simple concept, but Tolliver had never needed things to be extravagant or complex. This, right here, was all he needed - this, with his lover, his best friend, his favorite person, that was all he needed in this entire world.
The arrival of the cake made him blush furiously, and Hitch waving away the offer to sing was a definite relief - Hitch knew him so well. Tolliver felt as though his spirits could not have been higher, and he let out a shy laugh that was half hidden behind his hand, his cheeks flushed with sheer pleasure.
“All of the above..?” he said, eyes twinkling with affection.
----------------------------------------------------
“Okay, okay,” and Hitch’s smile said that’d been the correct answer, fidgeting triumphantly in his seat and clearing his throat. He knew full well he was a s**t singer, they both did, but really, wasn’t that kind of part of his charm? - sort of? - in any case, he started singing quietly in his completely off-key way, voice wavering and traveling all the places it wasn’t meant to, “Haaaaappy birthday to yoooooou… “
He grabbed Tolliver’s hand and put it to his lips, kissing the knuckles with a mischievous grin. “Ah-happy biiiiiirthday to yoooooou.” Another tender little kiss was pressed to his wrist, his eyes glinting playfully. “Happy biiiiiiiiiiiirthday, dear baaaaaaby… “
Then Hitch squeezed his fingers as his other hand slid up to cup Tolliver’s cheek, and his smile softened. “Happy birthdaaaaay to yoooooou~, ” he crooned as he leaned in, pressing his lips warmly, deeply, lovingly to his lover’s own.
----------------------------------------------------
He was blushing furiously throughout the entire song, but Tolliver couldn’t stop giggling, feeling absurdly like a little kid who had gotten a case of the giggles. But he knew that was what Hitch had wanted, and his off key, warbling voice was - well, pretty terrible, but it was still wonderful at the same time, because it was wonderfully bad.
Tolliver pressed both hands over his face, the sound of his laughter muffled, but Hitch had taken one of his hands, kissing the back of it, and he felt it warm through to his heart.
And then the song was softening, along with Hitch’s expression, and Tolliver stupidly felt tears pricking at his eyes again. He leaned into the kiss, for once entirely forgetting that they were still out in public, losing himself entirely in this beautiful, incredible moment. A hand cradled Hitch’s cheek, and he kissed him back just as deeply and lovingly, his face wet, lashes fluttering.
“I love you,” he mumbled, once he’d drawn away, and he’d said it already so many times this evening, but it would never grow old. “Thank you, Logan, that was wonderful. This whole day has been wonderful.”
----------------------------------------------------
“Has been - you say that like it’s over already babe.” Still, it was hard to ignore the stupidly broad smile on his face, his eyes glinting with delight - because for every bit that Tolliver enjoyed himself, the better Hitch felt. This was all he’d really wanted, more than anything - just to make his lover happy. Even happier than they were every day, all day. Make this birthday special, the first one where Tolliver was really letting himself live and be loved again. The first, and last, birthday before they were married.
Maybe a little abruptly, he stood up, pressing one last kiss to the back of his lover’s hand, nuzzling his cheek warmly against it. “Before anything else, though, I gotta hit the bathroom - wait right here, okay?”
----------------------------------------------------
He blinked in surprise. The day wasn’t over? What else was there to be done? Hitch had taken him to Fritz’s, to a movie, and now to dinner, and Tolliver wasn’t quite sure what else there was to do. He already felt wonderfully and beautifully adored, and that was enough for him.
“Okay,” he said, blinking in surprise as his hand lifted to grasp at Hitch’s before he left. “Come back soon.”
Because he was nothing if not a romantic. And sappy.
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch paused to flash him a wide grin over his shoulder before he scurried off.
And he was gone for awhile. At least five minutes before someone approached the table, looking a little tentative and unsure - even if they really knew exactly what they were doing, but they’d never met the target before, and, “You’re… Tolliver, right? Tolliver Hitchcock-St. James?” God what a mouthful. “I’ve got a -” He held a letter out to the man left sitting at the table, tucked in an envelope with hearts and a crude interpretation of a birthday cake sprawled onto it, along with Tolliver’s name in chicken scratch letters that was distinctly Hitch’s handwriting.
Inside, the letter read:
“‘That thing, that moment, when you kiss someone and everything around becomes hazy and the only thing in focus is you and this person and you realize that that person is the only person that you're supposed to kiss for the rest of your life, and for one moment you get this amazing gift and you want to laugh and you want to cry because you feel so lucky that you found it and so scared that that it will go away all at the same time.’ I’m no poet, so I borrowed this from something special. I’m sorry I left, but I really wanna give you one of these, and you’ll see me soon. This guy here, Ricky, he’s doing me a solid, so just trust me and tag along for awhile. It’ll be worth it, trust me. I love you! - Logan”
----------------------------------------------------
Tolliver began to feel increasingly more awkward the longer Hitch was gone, his brow furrowing in confusion as he glanced around the crowded restaurant. He sincerely hoped that nothing had happened; that his lover was okay, or that he was just taking a strangely long time because he’d gotten distracted. Or something.
He was on the verge of getting up, intending to go check, when the waiter came, and Tolliver, who had half-risen, sank back down abruptly.
His expression of bemusement only grew, though now it had a tinge of pink to it at the name. “That’s me,” he said slowly, nervously - but one look at the letter and its handwriting was enough to reassure him that it was indeed from Hitch (that handwriting of his really was atrocious, not that Tolliver could say much, because his own was not much better). He withdrew it from the envelope and started to read.
His face grew steadily redder by the second, his mouth falling open as his stomach did a somersault, his fingers starting to tremble so that the letter shook a little. Tolliver mouthed wordlessly for a second, then slowly looked up at the waiter, clamping his lips shut and wondering if he was about to go up in flames at any second now.
“What,” he said, and his voice came out a slight croak. Tolliver cleared his throat and tried again.
“Am I - am I supposed to go with you, or...or something?”
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The waiter, who as it turned out was named Ricky, seemed a bit flustered himself as he flashed Tolliver a friendly, if reserved smile. “That’d be correct. I’m not supposed to say where, but - anyway, Log- sorry, Hitch, uh, he helped me cater something kind of last minute, so -” Was it easy to forget that Hitch had been saddled with ‘Logan’ on his nametag at work? - that so few people actually took the time there to call him what he wanted instead of the name he’d rather keep personal between him and his lover? Then again, outside of Tolliver and his slowly widening circle of friends, what really was Hitch to anyone else but a deli clerk? A damn great deli clerk, yes, but - still, all the same, a worker, a cog in the system, little more.
“I just finished my shift, and he already got the bill - so if you’re ready - ?”
----------------------------------------------------
The smile was at least somewhat reassuring. Tolliver swallowed hard and toyed with the napkin in front of him, idly pushing it around between his fingers and twisting it into little knots that would probably very much irritate the waiters when they came to clean the table later.
His brows drew even closer together at the slip of almost-Logan - because as far as Tolliver knew, he was the only person who called him that, unless he was much mistaken. The blush on his face deepened a little, and he gave a little nod, hoping beyond hope that this was not just a misunderstanding.
“Yes,” he said, and got to his feet, a little flustered.
“Where - where are we going?”
----------------------------------------------------
“Sorry; like I said, I’m not supposed to say,” Ricky murmured with a slight shrug of his shoulders and an apologetic grin. “So just follow me, if you don’t mind.”
The ride wouldn’t be a long one, and it was filled to the brim with small talk; like Ricky could sense his passenger was a little nervous (or something), he kept on chatting away, topics varying from decent hair dyes (“wow your bangs look cool! how long since you last dyed them?”) to the weather (“getting chilly already, gonna be a rough winter”) before they finally rolled to a stop.
It was a baseball field, all lit up even though there was no game going on tonight. “Okay; your stop.”
----------------------------------------------------
Tolliver was relatively quiet on the ride over, not because he had no interest in talking, but because he’d never been good at any sort of conversation at all with other people. His face was still red, his fingers twisting in his lap, and he tried to keep up with the steady flow of chatter, his answers stammered and uncertain, sometimes rather hesitant in nature. At the same time, in spite of his own inadequacies, he did appreciate the attempts at making him feel less awkward about being in a car with a complete stranger.
By the time they arrived, he was more than a little anxious, and Tolliver stared in confusion at the baseball field, his eyebrows drawing together. With some effort, he manages to extricate himself from the car and slid out, tentatively taking a step forward and peering nervously around the place.
“Um,” he said to Ricky, turning back to look at him, shoulders hunched, as usual. “T-thank you.”
With a little wave, he made his way into the field, tugging his coat more securely around him, feeling quite out of his league.
“Logan?”
----------------------------------------------------
There was no answer, at least not right away. What was readily apparent was a bundle of roses and heartsease flowers sitting and waiting for him at the pitcher’s mound, reds and purples interspersed together, tied with tissue and ribbon and tied with a note. The note said, rather simply, in Hitch’s crude scrawling letters, ‘watch the clock’. It was set to count down from ten whenever his lover happened to look up - assuming the guy did his ******** job right - because five minutes seemed a little excessive for this kind of thing, really.
----------------------------------------------------
The fact that there was no answer just made him more anxious, Tolliver glancing around and twisting his hands together as he walked across the barren field. He could see something on the pitcher’s mound - his footsteps quickened, and he made his way towards it, slowing only when he could safely reach out and kneel beside it.
Roses. And - his favorite -
Tolliver felt his stomach twist, his heart leaping in his throat. His trembling fingers reached out and picked up the bundle, pressing his face into the flowers and inhaling the wonderful fragrance before he cradled it safely in his arms, unfolding the note and squinting at it.
His brow furrowed. Tolliver glanced up, looking left and then right before his eyes fell on the clock, and his pulse was quickening, his hands fluttering anxiously.
“Logan? Are - are you here..?”
----------------------------------------------------
The clock ticked down, and it might have felt to Tolliver that those ten seconds of silence ticking down felt like an eternity. But there was the thing. It ticked down to zero, and then, nothing. For an almost too long span of time, there was absolutely nothing, not a sound, not a change, just silence.
This was actually the part that Hitch was the most ******** nervous about; even if it was one of his favorite movies or whatever, it still would’ve been easier just to lavish him with more presents or whatever, and for all he knew Tolliver would be like ‘what the ******** is this?’ and just totally miss the point. He hoped he didn’t, though. He hoped this wasn’t some - he didn’t want to do a stupid thing when he’d been doing the right things all day up until now. It could’ve just ended with dinner, but -
Some short time, really only about five more seconds, and abruptly a ‘cheering’ track played over the loudspeakers, coupled with the Beach Boys “Don’t Worry Baby” as Hitch trounced down the stairs, quickly, not quite at a run but almost. He made a beeline for his fiance, a hint of red on his cheeks betraying his own nerves about the whole thing whether he wanted it to or not, even if his smile was wide and warm and reassuring - at least in the few seconds that Tolliver would see him before Hitch slid his arms around his waist and all but tilted his lover back for a kiss, long and deep and passionate.
----------------------------------------------------
Standing there, waiting and wondering and alone, Tolliver held his flowers and reminded himself, more than once, that this was Logan’s doing - that this was Logan’s handwriting, that this was all planned by his lover for him, and that he just needed to trust that whatever happened would be okay. His eyes remained fixed on the clock, his heart beating very fast as he watched it tick down.
And then it had ended and there was -
Nothing. Tolliver swayed a little where he stood, breath visible in the chill night air, and he shifted from one foot to the next, trying to figure out what was going on, if something had happened that wasn’t supposed to have happened. He glanced around, tearing his eyes away from the digital zeros now showing, expression a mixture of worry and concern.
But then - but then something was happening. There were cheering sounds, but no crowds or people around, and then -
The music. He knew this music, he knew it all too well, because how many times had he replayed the ending of that movie? How many times had he stayed up to watch just that, just the last five minutes? How many times had he sat there, curled up on the couch, to rewatch this movie over and over again? And suddenly everything was starting to make sense, all of the pieces clicking into place as though they had been there all along.
And there was Hitch - beautiful, wonderful, incredible Hitch - running down the bleaches towards him, and Tolliver was crying by now, his vision blurring somewhat, and he was swiping at his eyes, clutching the flowers. He let out a sound that was half a choking laugh, half a sob, and by the time Hitch actually reached him, he was ready, more than ready. Tolliver flung his arms around his lover’s neck and kissed him back just as passionately, holding on tightly as he was leaned back, to the one most important thing in his entire life.
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch had just enough time to see it, his lover with tears in his eyes, laughing and sobbing in one breath - and his heart ******** soared. It felt so damn good to be able to do something like that for him, to know really and truly that he’d done right by him. Because no one ******** deserved it more. No one deserved to be made to feel special more than Tolliver did, especially after all the s**t he’d been through.
As much as Hitch didn’t want the kiss to end - every kiss with Tolliver was like that - when he did finally break away, straightening his lover again and tugging him close with arms around his waist, faces inches apart, he smiled, meeting his fiance’s gaze intently, his adoration shining bright in his dark eyes.
“Sorry I’m late. Took me forever to get here.”
His smile broadened, satisfied that he’d gotten the long practiced lines right, and pressed another kiss, lighter, fleeting, and almost teasing onto Tollivers lips.
“Happy birthday baby.”
----------------------------------------------------
He was probably embarrassingly sniffly by now, Tolliver dragging in great gulps of breath by the time they broke apart. He couldn’t help but cling to Hitch, arms looped tightly around his neck and shoulders, pressing himself as close as possible to his lover, his fiance, his favorite person in the entire world.
A half sob, half laugh escaped him at the words, and he didn’t care that someone else might have thought it cheesy, to Tolliver it was, hands down, the most wonderful, romantic, beautiful thing that anyone had ever done for him, and he could not stop being emotional about it.
“Thank you,” Tolliver managed to get out, and he wiped his eyes again, staring at Hitch with unabashed, unfiltered adoration. “Just - this is - I love you so much, thank you, thank you.”
----------------------------------------------------
Hitch’s cheeks were positively flushed with pleasure as he beamed at his lover, reaching up to cup his cheek in his hand, and Tolliver’s look was reflected clear as day in his eyes. “Ditto,” he murmured, sliding his fingers up and over to brush his fingers through his fiance’s hair, toying idly with the ends of his bangs. He bought the tips to his lips, pressing a ginger kiss against dyed black, relishing the soft tickle of it against his skin. “All that. Ditto.” Including the ‘thank you’. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being born. Thank you for your brother not ******** eating you in the womb. Thank you for still being alive. Thank you for choosing me.
Abruptly, he moved, leaning down and hooking his arm behind his lover’s knees, sweeping him almost too smoothly into his arms bridal style. It was a little too much alike to how Eurydike had taken him home the night the officer had drained him, although Tolliver probably wasn’t thinking of that - or he hoped he wasn’t. He wanted his mind here on good times, happy times. “Let’s go home.” He kissed his forehead softly, tenderly - and what was any good romance movie without the guy carrying his love interest off into the sunset, right?
----------------------------------------------------
He tilted his head into the hand on his cheek, Tolliver hiccuping out a small sob. His heart felt so full he thought it might burst, that he might melt into a puddle right then and there. The feeling only magnified as Hitch kissed his hair, Tolliver’s pulse skittering, a choking sound escaping him as fresh tears filled his eyes. He wanted to bury himself against his lover and stay there forever, his heart in his throat.
Before he could say a word, however, he was swept up into Hitch’s arms, Tolliver giving a squeak of surprise. He clutched his lover’s shoulders, eyes wide - but a second later felt the warm wash of adoration overtake him as gentle lips kissed his forehead. Tolliver turned his head and pressed his own against Hitch’s, hiccuping again, his face flushed.
“Let’s go home,” Tolliver whispered, and he tightened his arms, shifting to bury his face in Hitch’s shoulder, clinging tightly to him. “Take me to our home, Logan.”
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