Something Blue

Chapter 6

"I brought you a latte," Pierce said, setting a Styrofoam cup on the front desk. He knew Elliot's favorite was the artisan coffee from the café downtown, but it wasn't open during the evening, so Pierce went to McDonald's instead.

Elliot simply glanced at the hot drink and then looked at Pierce without any appreciation. "The gym closes in twelve minutes." His tone was dismissive, but Pierce chose not to take the hint.

"Damn," the athlete pretended to be unaffected. He was dressed for a workout. "I'll have to skip cardio."

Most of the treadmills and weight benches had been wiped down with alcohol, but there was still a lingering odor of armpit in the facility, even though it was empty. Sweat had leached into the rubber balls, leather pads, and foam mats. No matter how many times Elliot cleaned, he still wrinkled his nose whenever he walked into the gym.

The artificial lighting was like a sepia filter, making everything look dingy and yellow. It was a stark contrast from the darkness outside. There were a few paneled windows displaying the night sky, along with a thin layer of frost. Elliot considered taking a sip of the latte just to increase his body temperature.

Pierce peeled off his shirt and gripped a bar above his head. With ease, he started doing pullups. Each muscle contracted with the flex of his arm. Elliot tried to avert his gaze, but it was hard not to notice Pierce's reflection with floor-to-ceiling mirrors on every wall. The blue-haired boy let himself glimpse at the row of stretchmarks along Pierce's spine. His hands ached to trace his skin, but he grabbed a pile of dirty towels instead.

The hockey player was tall, but far from perfectly toned. He was bulky, with muscular thighs and broad shoulders. Pierce hated doing ab workouts, so his belly was softer than most of his teammates, but he was undeniably captivating. He was neither shy or confident - he was present. In every moment, Pierce carried himself with precision, as if he could predict his influence.

Elliot scribbled on a checklist. He had doodled a picture of red-nosed reindeer, ruminating on the upcoming Christmas season. There was still a month until the semester ended, but Elliot was already lighting pine-scented candles and picking out his best red nail polishes. He was eager to go home and celebrate with his family.

"What're you doing after work?" Pierce asked, bracing his bicep to bring his chin over the bar.

"Sleeping."

"Alone?"

Elliot inhaled. "Yes."

He focused on the paper in front of him, aimlessly turning the corner of the page into a sketchpad. He was moving the pencil without consciously knowing what he was creating, keeping his eyes downcast. There was no point in entertaining Pierce's pursuits. Elliot had already put barbed wire around his heart. Not to keep Pierce out - rather, to keep his own emotions inside.

Pierce dropped down from the bar, looking overcast by sad thoughts. "You woke up next to me this morning," he remarked.

Elliot looked up. "Pierce..."

Standing among the metal machinery and cold gym interior, the athlete looked like the personification of the first day of spring - so bright, warm, and promising that Elliot started to wonder why he was fully clothed. He wanted to remove his uniform and soak up all the rays of Pierce. It didn't matter if he'd get burned.

"But I didn't get to wake up next to you," he added, stepping closer. "Because you snuck out. Again." Their new platonic relationship had retrogressed into a few intimate meetings this semester, but Elliot was careful to never stay until morning.

Elliot swallowed, letting the words dissolve into his bones. He wasn't rattled. "I have to mop the storage room."

Pierce watched Elliot turn away. The shape of his slender back had become imprinted in his brain. He had seen him walk away too many times.

"I think you do that on purpose. You leave," Pierce decided. His words were so coarsely strung together that Elliot's ears must have mistaken the sentence for a rope - wrapping around his throat with a sting. He couldn't take another step. "Because you don't want to give me anything. Not even something as small as sleeping in the same bed."

Elliot turned, but he could barely open his mouth before Pierce continued.

"And I don't blame you," he continued. "I fucked up. I get it. That's why you moved out. But I still haven't gotten used to you being gone. Every time I go to sleep with you and then wake up without you..." He shook his head as if he didn't have the words to describe his feelings.

"It's not about you, Pierce," Elliot said. "Not everything I do revolves around you. I left this morning for myself."

"Yourself?"

"Yes, myself."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means I didn't want to let myself think we could actually have a real relationship," Elliot stated. "We can't."

"We can't?" Pierce questioned. "Or you won't?"

"I won't," Elliot said. "I won't be with someone who makes me feel like a label to wear whenever it's convenient. You need to figure yourself out."

"You won't be with me because I can't label myself?"

"I won't be with you because you're confused," Elliot explained. "And it makes you do stupid shit - shit that hurts me."

Pierce was quiet. His golden eyes had drooped. "I'm sorry." It wasn't the first time he had apologized for what he had done last year.

The memory glossed over Elliot's mind and crystalized into a hard, protective chrysalis. It would take years for Elliot to experience a complete transformation, maybe more. He had to reconstruct his entire perception of himself.

"I shouldn't have let you touch me," Elliot murmured. "Last night was a mistake. I'll be your friend, Pierce, but we can't keep falling into old habits."

Pierce's jaw rippled before he spoke, low, "You'll never be a mistake. Not to me." The most minimalistic bout of reassurance - hangdog scraps.

"Yeah," Elliot refused to let his intuition bend. He deserved better. "Einstein said the same thing about failed experiments." He grabbed the mop, threw his sketch into the trash, and walked to the back, letting Pierce steep in his own dejection.