No Fairytale World - 8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

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Andy looked at the empty spot beside him.

He normally woke up early enough to beat Pete out of the house. Today, for the first time since Pete had moved in, Pete had made it out before him. He wondered if that was intentional on Pete’s part. Did Pete really have to work that early or did he just want to get away from Andy? Why would Pete want to get away from Andy? Pete had been the one to initiate the kiss the night before.

Then it dawned on Andy; maybe Pete regretted the kiss. But the kiss had been so nice. Even with the taste of beer in Pete’s mouth, kissing Pete had been very enjoyable. More enjoyable than the little affair he had had with Derrick.

Even after his shower, brushing his teeth, eating breakfast, and drinking coffee, he could still feel and taste Pete’s lips.

“It’s okay,” Andy said to himself as he walked out the door, smoothing back his hair. “I’ll just see him tonight. We can talk then.”

Moving down the steps to the train, he slid his Metrocard through the reader and pushed past the turnstile.

“Unless he works a double shift and doesn’t come home until late. Then what if he avoids me by coming home all moody and holing himself up in his bedroom, like the good old days?” Andy mumbled. “Well, that’s easy Andy, just don’t let him.”

A woman standing beside him waiting for her train looked at him oddly. He smiled faintly and looked away.

He debated with himself for the entire train ride. Finally, when he got off at 34^th he made his decision. He took out his cell phone and waited for reception to kick in before calling Mark.

“Yeah?” Mark said.

Andy smiled. “Hey man, can I have Michelle’s number?”

There was a pause. “Uh, what? Did you suddenly change teams again? Because if you did, Michelle is already taken.” There was a smile in Mark’s voice.

Andy laughed. “Michelle’s a beauty, but no, she’s still not my type. I need her number because I want to know where Pete works.”

“Starbucks?”

“There’s a Starbucks on every corner. Which one?” Andy asked rolling his eyes.

“Oh, right,” Mark said sheepishly. He rattled off Michelle’s number. Andy quickly hung up on his friend and called Michelle.

“Hey Michelle, this is Andy. I was wondering…”

******

“You look like shit.”

Pete glared at Angela. His coworker hid her smile behind her hand. “Well, you do,” she insisted laughing. “What happened? Party too late last night? I didn’t know you were into partying. Pete, you’ve been holding out on me.”

Pete thought back to the beers and kissing Andy until they fell asleep. He had to pinch himself to remember that it wasn’t a dream.

“What’s with the smile?” Angela teased. “Someone get laid last night?”

“Fuck off,” he said with a smile so that she’d know he was joking.

“I guess that’s a yes. Hope it was worth it, you looked tired and ugly.”

“Whatever, you’re still hot for me,” Pete shot back.

She rolled her eyes and headed to the back. “Even when you’re half dead with bags under your eyes, you’re still as cocky as ever.”

He grinned at her, but it quickly fell away as his head started spinning. A wave of dizziness hit him.

Either he was still hung over, which was possible because he had always been a lightweight in the alcohol department, or he was getting sick. He hated getting sick, so he preferred the hangover option. He rubbed his clammy forehead and groaned. “Should have stayed home,” he murmured to himself as he leaned on his elbows. And it was the morning: the biggest coffee rush ever. “Someone shoot me,” he begged.

“Why don’t you go home?” Benny suggested as he passed by carrying gallons of milk.

“Can’t. Need the money.”

“Yeah, but you look tired and sick. What if you puke all over the customers or worse, their coffee?” Benny asked with an easy-going smile. “Maybe you can get another shift when you feel better. Craig might work something out for you. You’ve always been reliable in the past.”

Pete nodded, but then quickly stopped since it made him feel nauseous. “Yeah, Craig is cool. But I’ll be okay. Just give me a minute.”

“Sure, but if Craig asks, just say you were in the bathroom because you had diarrhea from some Mexican food.”

Pete groaned. “Damn, don’t make me feel even sicker!”

Benny laughed and it made Pete’s head pound.

Leaning his head against the cold bathroom stall, he breathed deeply through his nostrils, trying to clear his head. It appeared to be working. A little.

“Pete!” Angela’s voice called out.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

“There’s a guy looking for you!”

“Huh? What guy?” Pete asked, his shoulders automatically tensing. Who was looking for him?

“I don’t know. He just asked for you. He’s a hottie though. Tall and blond and all handsome in his suit,” Angela said in a dreamy voice.

Pete’s eyes shot open. “Andy?”

“Come out soon. I have to head back out,” she said and then her footsteps faded away.

Andy had come for him? Why? Pete walked to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. “Wake up, Pete. Wake up.” He slapped his face a couple times and took a few deep breaths.

“You look like shit,” Andy said as soon as he saw him.

“Thanks a lot,” Pete said sarcastically. “You’re basically calling me ugly.”

Andy smiled. “You’re not ugly. Hardly.” Then he blushed and Pete couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face. Andy cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You were out early this morning,” Andy said his eyes glued to the muffins.

“Yeah, and I felt like shit,” Pete said in a dry tone. “We open at six, so I had to be here at five to set up. But I kinda like opening because I get work out of the way; I’m up early and have more of the day at my disposal. Although last night made opening this morning that much rougher, but…” Pete trailed off while he shrugged.

Andy looked relieved for some reason. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Duh!” Pete rolled his eyes. “I was in the bathroom taking a nap and using the stall wall as my pillow. What do you think?”

“Couldn’t you call-in sick?”

Pete shot him a look.

“Right, you need the money,” Andy said. “By the way, I was wondering if this was your only job. Did you quit the other?”

“No, I still have the other, but I don’t have regular shifts. I don’t always get the entire weekend evenings. I have to alternate with the other waiters; but it’s still extra money and under the table, with tips and all. It’s better than doing the, um, you know, other thing,” Pete rambled nervously, looking at the countertop, hating the lie he was telling.

Andy got his meaning. “Of course,” he agreed quickly. “I was just wondering, I mean, I was just asking…”

“Yeah?” Pete asked curiously, his headache nearly gone.

“I just wanted to know if you would have dinner with me tonight? Not at the house, but somewhere else? Like outside?” Andy looked nervous and antsy.

Pete didn’t want to smile, but he couldn’t help it. “Really?”

Andy nodded. “Maybe we could talk some more?” He looked hopeful. “About stuff…”

Pete wanted to shout that they could talk about shit all day and he’d still enjoy Andy’s company.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be home way before you, so I will crash for a few hours. When you get back, we can head out, unless you want me to meet you somewhere directly after work?”

“No, I’ll come home first to change. I hate wearing my monkey suit more than I have to,” Andy said smiling.

“Cool. I think I’ll go back to the bathroom and take my nap.”

“You’re crazy, Pete, or just damn stubborn,” Andy shook his head.

“I know. I’m too crazy and too stubborn for my own damn good. See you tonight,” Pete said.

“Tonight.” Andy turned to leave, then turned back. His eyes darted around. “Pete?”

“Hmm?”

“The thing last night, you know…”

Pete nodded, deciding to help out the poor man.

“You didn’t regret it, right?” Andy looked hesitant.

Pete smiled. “No, Andy. I regret many things in my life, but last night, that’s one thing I don’t regret. I don’t think I ever will.”

******

“This will be a very awkward Christmas,” Andy said glumly. The holidays were approaching and it was natural to segue into that ‘Hey, what are you doing for Christmas’ talk. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a fun topic for either Pete or Andy.

“This will be the first time in the five years since Susan and I married that our families will not be doing a joint gathering. Our families get along really well. I am not sure if my parents and her parents talk much these days. Another thing that’s my fault,” Andy said glumly, his shoulders sagging.

“No decorating the tree. No eating cookies with Jordan. He’s is staying with Susan on Christmas Day. I’ll get him for the following week. I took off work, but it’s not the same as spending the actual holiday with him.” He sighed. “This is going to be so hard. I love waking up every Christmas morning and seeing Jordan burst into our room begging for his presents.”

“Divorces are never easy,” Pete said softly. “Even though you feel guilty, every couple, straight or gay, feels weird dealing with their first holiday alone. It’s even worse if they have children together.”

Andy shot Pete an appreciative smile. “I know. Dinner with just my parents will be very uncomfortable and tense. Small talk at best. Although my mother is getting much better. She called and she said she watched a few ‘Queer as Folk’ DVDs. Now she feels more ‘in the know’ about this ‘gay thing,’” Andy air quoted.

Pete snorted. “Your mom is so cute.”

“She is,” Andy smiled. “She’s trying in her own unusual way or maybe that’s how all moms’ react when a son or daughter comes out?”

“Not sure,” Pete smiled faintly. “But I would have taken your mother’s reaction...”

He didn’t have to finish the rest of his sentence; Andy knew what Pete wanted to say.

Andy fiddled with the napkin. “So, what will you do for Christmas?”

“Working,” Pete said with a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Seriously?” Andy exclaimed before he could stop himself. “It can’t be for the money! It’s Christmas!”

“The money is one reason,” Pete laughed. “But most kids don’t want to work on Christmas. Most people have requested off to be with their families. Since I don’t have one, well, I volunteered. And there’s really not a lot to do on Christmas Day in general.”

Andy couldn’t imagine working on Christmas Day. When he was younger, although having had part time jobs, he had never worked on the holiday. His parents just would not have allowed it; his attendance at the parties was mandatory. Once again, he felt a great wave of sympathy for Pete.

“Why don’t you come to dinner with me?” Andy blurted out before he really thought about what he was asking.

Pete’s fork stopped midway to his mouth. His jaw fell open. His eyes were wide. “What?”

“What?” Andy automatically repeated, stalling.

“Umm,” Pete began.

Andy’s mind raced. Pete stared at him in shock. Andy made up his mind.

“Come to dinner with me,” Andy repeated as he breathed out. The words came out in a rush. “With my parents on Christmas Day.”

“Now you’re shitting me,” Pete said regaining his composure and digging into his plate of food. “No way did I just hear that.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Andy...”

“Pete, are you working in the morning or at night?”

“In the morning,” Pete said. “No one likes to wake up early.”

“Then you can work and still make it to dinner,” Andy reasoned.

“I don’t think so, Andy.”

“Why not?” Andy said seriously. Now he really wanted Pete to come along.

“Because it would be weird!” Pete exclaimed. “You said your parents are getting adjusted to your newly attained ‘gay thing’ and then I come along. They’re going to think we’re together.”

Andy frowned and was about to ask, ‘would that be so bad?’ before he shut his mouth in time. He shook his head to clear it. It was way too premature to have those thoughts.

“They might think that, but I’ll give them the heads up. I’ll tell them we’re roommates and that we didn’t even know each other until you moved in,” Andy said. “All true, by the way.”

“It is,” Pete began.

“How can I let you go back to an empty house after working all morning? What will you even eat?”

“I’ll manage. I don’t have your cooking skills, thank God,” Pete joked.

“Pete, it’s Christmas, you should stuff your face with, with, with,” Andy sputtered. “Holiday junk food! Cakes and cookies. Pies, brownies, pastas, mashed potatoes, whatever people eat!”

“I’ve managed this long; I’ll be fine,” Pete assured. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

Andy could see Pete’s face hardening and his shoulders stiffening. Pete was closing himself back up.

“But I do worry about you,” Andy said softly. Pete blinked. “I mean, you have to know that by now. I do care about you. Even if it’s awkward and my mom embarrasses me to hell, I want you to come to dinner with me. I want you to eat a home cooked meal and be with people and forget about your past and laugh and talk,” Andy rambled. “You don’t know my parents, but it can’t be any worse than being alone. Alone on the holidays! No, I can’t let that happen. No! You’re going to dinner at my parents’ house. End of story!”

Pete was staring at him. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I’ve never heard anyone speak so emphatically before, at least when it came to my company. I don’t know how to react,” Pete admitted.

Andy leaned forward. “I know you think that no one cares about you, but it’s not true. I think we’ve grown closer and I hope that you feel the same way. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, Andy, we are,” Pete said sincerely.

“So dinner on Christmas Day?” Andy asked pleadingly, his eyes wide and his lips pursed.

“You’re working me,” Pete said with suspicion. “I can sense the manipulation…”

Andy’s grin widened. “Is that a yes?”

“If I regret this, I’ll make you cook your own meals,” Pete threatened. “I won’t help you put out any fires, or give you burn creams. You’ll be on your own.”

“You do know that if I burn down the house, we’ll both be homeless. And you know Mark won’t let us crash with him and Michelle, especially after burning down his house,” Andy shot back.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Pete muttered. “I like living here. Damn it!”

Andy laughed loudly.

******

Andy didn’t know whether to admire Pete or be afraid of him. Andy watched Pete carefully as his parents grilled the poor boy.

“What school do you go to?”

“Columbia.”

“Good school,” Andy’s dad said nodding in approval.

“Hard work, but I love it,” Pete answered with an empty smile; there was no emotion behind it whatsoever.

Andy knew that look well. He was in his, what Andy liked to call ‘Armor Mode.’ He had seen this on Pete when they had first met. Pete’s eyes were blank as if he was just regurgitating some kind of mental script.

“What year are you in?”

“I’m a freshman.”

“At 22?”

Andy shot his mother a look.

“I had some financial troubles and it took me awhile to save up money. I’m on my own, so money was hard to come by. Luckily, I met a great friend who cosigned my loan and here I am now,” Pete said quietly.

Andy’s parents exchanged a curious look.

“What about your parents, Pete?” Andy’s dad asked with a hint of concern.

“Dad!” Andy burst out, unable to hold it in any longer. What was with his parents and all these questions? He already told them that Pete wasn’t a boyfriend or date! Parents! Annoying!

“It’s okay, Andy,” Pete said his eyes glazing over.

Andy hated that look. Pete had been opening up lately and Andy didn’t want Pete to return to his protective shell.

“My parents are dead,” Pete stated and Andy blinked at the lie. “My dad died when I was younger and my mother died when I was nineteen. She lost her battle with cancer. The holidays have been very lonely for me, just working, so I appreciate you guys having me over for dinner.”

Andy blinked. Where the hell did that come from? But it shut Andy’s parents up; they both closed their mouths and nodded sympathetically. Andy realized that was probably Pete’s intention. Play the sympathy card, add a dose of appreciation, get them off his back, and then move on to other topics.

It worked wonderfully.

Andy’s mother smiled, genuinely friendly and caring. “Well, we are happy to have you here. I always make too much food over the holidays since I enjoy cooking so much. So the more people I can feed the better.”

“It’s excellent,” Pete said smiling, this time with some warmth. “I have the worst eating habits. We don’t really cook, so all this variety is really great.”

Andy’s mother beamed. Andy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He shot a look at Pete and Pete smiled. Apparently, Pete knew what he was doing. He could definitely be a charmer when he wanted to be.

“Dinner wasn’t so bad, right?” Andy asked on their way home, their arms loaded with leftovers.

“Not at all. I was expecting the questions,” Pete said.

“Uh, yeah, about that? What was up with your mom and the cancer thing?” Andy asked hesitantly.

“Sometimes it’s just easier to think of her dead,” Pete replied simply, requiring no time to ponder his answer. “If I remember her as she was, I get angry and emotional and that would freak out your parents. So I stuck with a good old fashioned lie.” He shrugged. “I haven’t been home for awhile. Maybe I got lucky and she actually did die?”

Andy knew Pete’s history, but it was still a shock to hear Pete speak so calmly. Then again, Pete was probably used to it.

“Anyway,” Pete said changing the subject. “You said it would be awkward, but your parents didn’t talk about the divorce or anything.”

“Nah, they had you to focus on.”

“Ah, now I see the real reason why you invited me,” Pete grinned.

Andy laughed. “I’m so transparent.”

“I ate so much,” Pete sighed. “I can’t wait to go home and crash. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“I can see that,” Andy said glancing over while he drove. “We’ll be home soon.”

Pete grunted in response. Andy kept stealing glances as Pete slept, his head tilted to one side. With the moonlight beaming down on them, Pete’s skin looked paler, almost translucent, and the dark features-- his eyebrows, his lashes--all stood out in stark contrast. There was something very childlike about Pete’s appearance at that moment, but also a little supernatural. Andy was tempted to poke Pete and see if he was real or not.

Andy felt like he lived in a bubble; up until Pete, he had never known anyone with such problems, with such strength and determination to make things right. When Andy was in his twenties, all his friends cared about was getting the highest paying job or the fanciest car or the latest electronic.

Pete was so different and so real. It was one of the reasons why Pete was always on Andy’s mind and one of the reasons he admired and cared for Pete so much.

When Andy parked in the driveway, he turned to Pete who was sleeping soundly. Andy smiled and gently ran his fingers through the short dark hair, his index finger grazing Pete’s forehead. Pete murmured and moved his head closer to Andy’s hand.

“Pete, we’re home. Time to wake up.”

Pete opened his eyes and looked around with bleary eyes. “Huh? So soon?” He turned over. “Sleep more.”

Andy chuckled. “Pete,” he said softly. “We’re home now. Come inside and we can go to bed. It’s more comfortable in our beds,” he went on in a soothing voice.

Pete grunted.

“Alright, I’ll help you,” Andy said getting out of the car and walking over to Pete’s side. Opening the door, he took hold of Pete’s arm and draped it over his shoulder. Then Andy pulled and slowly Pete came out of the car, holding onto him, resting his head on Andy’s chest.

Andy kicked the door shut and they headed up the short walkway. “Home sweet home,” he murmured into Pete’s ear.

Andy put Pete to bed, similar to the way he had put Pete to bed when Pete got drunk a few nights earlier. He undressed Pete down to his shirt and shorts. Getting Pete’s coat and sweater off was tougher than he imagined since Pete was unwilling to offer any help. Andy grunted and was feeling warm by the end of his vigorous task.

Pete smiled with his eyes closed. “Thanks, Andy. You’re the best,” he sighed in a breathy voice, like a child drifting off to sleep.

Andy perched on the side of the bed and caressed Pete’s forehead with his thumb. Pete hummed in response, getting more comfortable on the bed.

Preparing to leave, Andy took one last look at Pete. Then he started taking off his own clothes as quietly as possible, stripping down to his boxers. He slid under the covers beside Pete.

Pete never opened his eyes, but he did shift over to make room for Andy. Andy turned his body toward Pete, draping his arm across Pete’s stomach.

Pete sighed again, snuggling closer to Andy. “Night, Andy.”

“Night, Pete. Merry Christmas,” Andy whispered back against Pete’s gentle breathing.

Thanks to Frances for editing. And a special thanks to Pete (YaP) for beta-reading.