“Morning,” David called when he spotted Louis getting out of his car.
Louis nodded, though he didn’t actually respond. He looked exhausted. His eyes were shadowed and his face a little paler than usual—making him appear just shy of the shade of a piece of paper.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” David couldn’t help but ask as Louis approached.
Louis just shrugged, then yawned. “Maybe an hour,” he said.
David tried not to read too much into that. “Is everything okay?” he asked slowly.
“She’s fine,” Louis said.
That was a relief, but it certainly didn’t change the fact that Louis looked like a zombie extra right now. David hesitated for a moment, before reaching up to squeeze Louis's elbow. “Are you okay?”
Louis gave him a flat glance. And, yeah, maybe that was a stupid question, but Louis hadn’t really been okay since David met him. That didn’t usually cause him to lose sleep.
“I’m fine,” Louis said, nudging David’s shoulder with a hand to direct him toward the studio. David wanted to protest, but pushing him didn’t seem like the right course of action, either.
“You excited for any of the scenes today?” he asked instead, grinning because he knew that Louis had a sequence wherein he was almost entirely absent, replaced by his stunt double.
“No,” Louis said, dully.
David snorted and bumped their shoulders together.
“Maybe you should take a nap when you aren’t needed,” he said, though he knew that Louis wouldn't. He never fell asleep around other people. David had called it paranoia when Louis told him that, but Louis had referred to it as common courtesy with a rather judgmental look.
“In the unlikely event that I’m not needed, I have better things to do than sleep.”
“You say that, but you look a bit like the living dead. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Louis pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. David wondered if it was because he kept asking if he was all right, or if it was really because he wasn’t actually all right.
“David, stop worrying,” Louis said. “Sometimes I can’t sleep. It’s not a big deal.”
David didn't buy that, but he couldn't exactly refute it, either.
“What do you have today?” Louis asked, though David was pretty sure it was just to change the subject. Louis always knew David’s schedule.
“Shooting a bad-ass action sequence with myself and a couple werewolves,” David lied.
“You are not,” Louis said. “You have a romance sub-plot and a detective scene.”
David grinned.
“Why ask questions you already know the answer to?” David said. "Do you like hearing the sound of my voice that much?"
He wanted to slip his hand around Louis's, but he knew that Louis would not appreciate the gesture as they walked into work. Instead, he just knocked their shoulders together again, stepping a little closer.
To his surprise, Louis swung his arm around him to rest on David’s shoulders. It made walking a little awkward, but David didn’t have the resolve to knock the arm away. The hand lingered even when they came to a stop in front of David’s trailer.
As much as it made a warm fuzzy feeling curl up inside of David like a contented cat, it was worrying. Something was off this morning, no matter what Louis said. Really off.
“Wanna come in for a minute?” David asked. They still had some time before they had to start getting ready.
Louis hesitated for a moment, looking a bit like a man walking to the gallows. David frowned wondering what that look could possibly be about.
“Yeah, I need to talk to you, actually,” Louis said.
David’s stomach filled with dread. Oh. Oh, no.
“Why?” David asked, still standing in front of the door to his trailer as though he could keep away the bad news by stopping them from going inside.
“In private,” Louis said. “You’re going to be upset with me.”
David was going to be upset? With Louis?
That didn’t sound like he was breaking up with him. It sounded more like Louis had done something wrong, though David couldn’t for the life of him think what.
Unless he had cheated? But they had just seen each other last night, and, unless Louis had driven two towns over to find an open bar, that didn't seem likely. Except, Louis did look like he hadn’t slept at all.
“David, the door,” Louis prompted.
David almost told him that he didn’t want to know, that he’d rather just ignore that anything might have happened and continue on as they had been, but he supposed he really should hear what Louis had to say.
Feeling as wary as Louis looked, David opened the door and stepped into his trailer. Louis followed, closing the shitty plastic door behind them for the illusion of privacy.
“You left this at my place last night,” Louis said, setting down his briefcase on the little dinette and pulling something out.
David’s eyes widened as he saw the faux leather journal that he brought last night in an attempt to find the courage to show Rosemarie.
“Uh, thanks,” David said, reaching out for it.
Louis didn’t hand it over, instead holding it to his chest, like it was some sort of contraband that David was confiscating.
“I read it,” Louis said quickly.
David blinked. “What?”
“I read it. I knew I shouldn’t and I read it anyway.”
David just stared at him, brows furrowed. He was having trouble computing what Louis was saying.
Louis, the guy who hated any sort of public attention and invasion of privacy, was saying that he had read through David’s notebook without permission.
“I’m sorry,” Louis said. “I know I shouldn’t have. I didn’t really mean to, it just sort of happened.”
“Oh, it just happened?” David snapped, feeling exposed and betrayed. “You can’t accidentally read through someone else’s notebook, Louis! It’s not like your eyes slipped over one hundred odd pages!”
“You're right. I’m sorry,” he repeated.
And, sure, he looked sorry now, but that didn’t stop the fact that he had read the damn thing.
The worst part was that it was partially David’s fault, anyway. He shouldn’t have brought it, but he’d been trying to find the courage to share it with Rosemarie. Not that he’d succeeded.
David closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Fine, whatever,” David said holding out his hand for the book.
Louis didn't move, just looked at him with an almost childish reluctance in his eyes. For once, David found it irritating more than endearing.
“Can I have it back now?” he prompted after a moment.
Louis handed it over slowly and still looking like he’d rather be doing anything else. David snatched it away and stuffed it in his back pocket.
He was such an idiot.
He could feel his face heating at the thought of Louis reading through the poems in there. It wasn't like Louis would realize that David once wrote a stupid song for him from anything in the book—it wasn't like Louis even remembered! They weren't even in the double digits at that point!
They were both adults now and it was absurd to be so caught up on the words of a little kid he hadn't even known.
He did know Louis now. There was so much they'd built together and so much that David had started to want from him, too. It was almost too much. He trusted Louis. He trusted Louis more than he trusted pretty much anyone.
But David's body didn't seem to care about any of that.
His heart was already speeding and a cold sweat prickled the back of his neck. The idea of hearing anything Louis had to say about the contents of his notebook made him want to flee the country.
David didn’t know how to cope with the dichotomy of the two feelings, the desire and the fear.
If he really loved Louis, why couldn’t he share this part of himself with him?
“I know I shouldn’t have read it,” Louis said softly. “That was inexcusable and an invasion of your privacy. I truly am sorry."
"But?" David asked because there was a but hanging at the end of the sentence even if Louis didn't have the gall to say it.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Louis glanced at the door as though to make sure they were alone. "But I don't understand. Why are you so recalcitrant about your music?"
He’d recognized what the poems were, then. David flushed which only made him angrier. "Does it matter? Do I need to share it with you?"
Louis looked like he wanted to say something to that, but, finally, he just sighed. "You're right; you don't. I won't mention it again."
"Good, then if you'll excuse me," David said, waving a hand toward the door.
Louis hesitated for a split second before nodding again and leaving the trailer.
*****
The rest of the day went without a hitch, if only because David managed to force himself so far behind the persona of Marcus Lazarus that he didn’t have to even think of Louis.
When the end of the day came around, though, David bolted for the door, trying to make it to Jennifer’s car before Louis had a chance to talk to him again.
“David, wait! Please don’t ignore me,” Louis called, actually sprinting to catch up with him.
David stopped, reluctantly turning back to face him. Frankly, he still looked miserable and exhausted and remorseful and it made it really hard to be angry with him.
“I’m not ignoring you,” David said. “I am angry with you.”
“I know,” Louis said. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but just...” He broke off with a frustrated sigh. “Actually, I don't even know what I'm trying to say. I know how upset I would be if our positions were reversed. I am sorry—for that, and for this. I'm clearly not thinking straight. I'll see you tomorrow.” Louis stepped back, as though to release David and uncharacteristically scrubbed a hand through his hair.
The gesture made it stand ridiculously on end and David stuffed his hand in his pocket to stop himself from reaching up to smooth it back down.
David stood there, frowning at Louis until he fidgeted, just a little, shifting from one foot to the other.
He was still angry, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been that morning. David just maybe—okay, probably—would have done the same. David was the cat and curiosity was his fatal flaw. And Jennifer, on multiple occasions, had done the same. It just felt different with Louis. Dangerous, somehow, in a way that it wasn't with Jennifer.
But, David wasn't sure Louis deserved that, either. It was probably just David's insecurities rearing their evil heads again.
“I can forgive you for the journal,” David said. “Just give me a night to get over it. And ask next time.”
The look of utter relief on Louis's face was almost comical if it hadn't been so tinged with exhaustion. Seriously, had the man even gotten an hour's sleep? David finally gave into the impulse to smooth a hand over Louis's hair, fixing the strands he'd displaced, then giving his shoulder a squeeze.
Once he had, he gave into the further impulse to press a chaste kiss to Louis's lips, liking the way that Louis's shoulder relaxed against his palm, leaning into him.
Even upset, that was still nice. When David pulled away, though, Louis's expression went tense again. He looked stressed. Of course he was stressed, though. Maybe it was the exhaustion cracking his mask, but he looked a bit like he was hanging off the edge of a cliff without a parachute.
“You should get some sleep,” David said, his thumb playing over the seam of Louis's collar.
“I will as soon as I get home,” he said with a genuine smile.
David frowned. “Are you okay to drive?” he asked. It wasn’t like it was an incredibly long drive to Louis's house, but it was a good twenty-five minutes during rush hour—all farmers seemed to drive ten miles-per-hour below the speed limit except for when you were in front of them going ten over with a double yellow line.
“If I’m too tired, I’ll pull over,” Louis assured him. "Or, I'll call a cab. Don't worry."
David would worry, though, so he reached out and plucked the keys from Louis's grip. It seemed to take him a moment to register what happened, so David felt assured that this was the correct choice.
“I’ll drive you home, actually,” David said, giving him a cheeky smile. “No drowsy driving.”
Louis looked like he wanted to protest, but he must have actually been too tired to drive, because when David grabbed his hand to pull him towards the car, he followed without a word.
“Okay, I know this is not going to inspire confidence,” David said once he had sat down, adjusting the mirrors a little so he could see, “but, uh, how do you turn on your car, again? I had to look it up last time I drove.”
Louis snorted and pointed to the big round button labeled "On/Off", which David thought was a little on the nose. He stuck his tongue out at Louis and felt that maybe things really were going to be okay after all.
Just as long as David figured out how to forget about the embarrassment of his youth.
That shouldn’t be hard. It wasn’t like he’d been obsessing over that letter for close to twenty years.
“Foot on the break, press the power button,” Louis prompted when David didn't immediately move to start the car. He pointed out the gear shift and parking button, then leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
David didn't turn the music on or try to start a conversation, just listened to the quiet sound of Louis's breathing as he stewed in his own thoughts.
If it hadn't been that journal, David thought he could have laughed it off, filing it away as a teasing rebuke when he wanted to get his way later on, but it was that journal. The one with parts of David that he kept safe from everyone but Jennifer.
And now Louis.
What did Louis even want with it? Did he really just want to hear David sing again? Or for David to play for Rosemarie? Or was it just because David didn't want to talk about it? Was it one of those too-close conversations born of Louis's insatiable desire to pick things apart until he understood them?
Even the thought of the latter made David feel a bit raw. He loved that intensity about Louis, but sometimes he wished it wasn't directed at him so often.
David pulled into the driveway at Rosemarie's house, but couldn’t figure out which button opened the garage, so he just put it in park and turned the car off.
Louis didn't even stir so David took a moment to study him. His arms were crossed over his chest and his mouth was soft, lips parted just slightly. The five-o-clock shadow he always sported by the evening was stark against his pale skin, as though tempting David to run his hand over Louis's cheek. He didn’t snore, but his breath hitched unevenly every couple inhales.
David realized that he had never actually seen Louis asleep before, even when they had slept together. Maybe he really was a vampire. David chuckled at the thought. He reached out and stroked a finger over the shell of Louis's ear. Louis sat up with a sharp inhale, looking around until his eyes caught on David.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” David said. “We’re here.”
Louis nodded. “Thanks for driving,” he said. “I must have been more tired than I thought.”
“You want me to pull it into the garage?”
Louis paused, then looked over at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of how you were going to get home.”
“Oh, I was going to call a cab or something. Maybe see if Jennifer is feeling generous today.” She wouldn’t be. He'd forgotten to text her before they left, so he'd sort of abandoned her after begging for a ride at lunch. Hopefully, she had figured out he’d disappeared on her own via GPS.
“Take the car,” Louis said. “You can pick me up in the morning, or I can call for a ride.”
He looked over at David with that expression he'd been wearing all day that made David's heart pound with anxiety but which he couldn't decipher past feeling like something was wrong. David nodded, still leaned over the center console. Louis's eyes dipped to David's lips and he leaned in a little, pausing to ask David's silent permission before pressing an uncharacteristically desperate kiss to his lips.
David always liked kissing Louis, but there was something about that kiss that settled in his stomach with a leaden weight.
“Louis, what’s wrong?” he asked when Louis drew away.
“Nothing, I’m just tired.” It was a lie, but David didn’t know how to insist that Louis tell him when he'd just told Louis to mind his own business about David's feelings.
Instead, he cupped Louis's jaw and kissed him again.
“I’ll be here in the morning,” he whispered, then let Louis go—which was surprisingly difficult. He was sort of tempted to follow him into the house and tuck him into bed. Possibly to tuck himself into bed alongside him.
“David,” Louis said, pausing with one leg out the door, his expression too serious for David's comfort, "I know my timing is terrible, but... I think we need to talk tomorrow. About us. I think it's time to decide where this is going.”
David’s heart plummeted. That sounded an awful lot like an ultimatum.
Was this what he'd been trying to say all day? It was probably a long time coming, honestly. Maybe since the night they got back from Weldstone Harbor. Maybe that was why he'd been... distant wasn't the right word, but certainly not as interested as David had expected.
David had been under the impression that things had been going well, at least until recently. But, come to think of it, that had all started after that night, hadn't it? Louis must have realized what he'd gotten himself into.
David hadn't thought to wonder about it before, but now he could't help but consider that maybe he had failed to satisfy Louis sexually.
Were the arguments just a pretext? He didn't think Louis would do something like that, but Louis wasn't exactly an open book. How well did he really know him?
Louis might have been trying to give David an excuse to end it. He may have even thought that that would be easier on David than breaking up with him.
David stared for a moment longer, trying to come up with some kind of response that would clarify everything, but, in the end, all he could do was nod and watch as Louis disappeared into the house.
David drove back to the B&B, parking the car outside. It felt wrong for it to be here without Louis, David thought a little numbly.
Louis wanted David to make a choice.
David didn’t want to make one.
David especially did not want to make one when he was still upset about the damn notebook.
But, if Louis didn't want David to make an emotionally driven decision, then why ask now?
David tugged the offending journal from his pocket and flung it across the room to see if that made him feel any better. It didn't.
The journal hit the wall, bouncing off it and sliding under the bed. David didn’t bother retrieving it, flopping down on the squeaky mattress instead and covering his face with a frilly pillow.
Louis wanted to talk about them tomorrow.
Louis wanted to talk about where this was going tomorrow.
David didn't even know where he wanted it to go. He liked what was between them already. He liked hanging out with Louis and kissing him and sleeping with him.
Did Louis like all that? He was much more experienced with sex than David. Was David satisfying in bed? Was David satisfying out of bed?
They were friends, so he must get something out of their relationship, but friendship and romance weren't the same. But David truly did think Louis wanted to be with him. He'd kissed him less than an hour ago! But he also hadn't tried to go further and he'd refused every invitation David had given to stay over since that night, too.
David pressed the sunflower pillow more firmly over his face. The pillowcase had been washed since Louis spent the night, but if he closed his eyes he could still imagine his scent there. He could practically feel the warmth he’d felt the morning after with Louis still resting beside him, arm propped up as he read one of David’s books with those ridiculously thick glasses perched on his nose.
David wanted that again.
But even if he wanted that and even if Louis wanted it, there was still the looming question of the future.
Louis didn't want to stay on Night Mist. The only reason he was here was because he needed to be here with Rosemarie.
Because she was dying.
The knowledge had set up residence as a permanent ache in David’s chest. He couldn’t even imagine what Louis and Rosemarie were going through.
Selfishly, David wanted Louis. He wanted to be around him, to kiss him, to touch him, to have his thoughts and his feelings spread out before him and nobody else. But he wasn't sure if that was enough.
He wanted to be there for Louis, too, through the things that might come and the things that were coming.
But David wanted things for himself, too.
What could he do from Midtown if, no, when Louis returned to Weldstone Harbor?
He could follow him, he supposed, but if he did, that would mean returning his career to exactly where it had been before he left. The only reason to go was that Louis made him happy. But he was afraid that if he made a decision based just on that, he was going to end up resenting it. Maybe even resenting Louis. Louis made him happy, but that didn't necessarily mean it wasn't a destructive happiness.
So where did that leave them?
David promised Rosemarie that he would look after Louis when she was gone. At this rate, David honestly didn’t know if he could keep that promise. Could this work if their paths diverged the way it seemed like they would?
Maybe it was better to end this all now, before they got any more tangled up with each other.
David flung the pillow to the side and stared at the patterns on the ceiling.
Louis had promised that they would still be friends when it ended, and Rosemarie seemed to think that that was what Louis needed anyway. A friend. Someone who didn’t have expectations of something more or ask that he compromise his own happiness while he figured himself out.
“You’re leaving anyway, aren’t you?” David muttered to the empty air.
Because Louis didn’t like small towns or small productions.
David, it turned out, did. He had never felt happier or more fulfilled than he had working on Night Mist and he didn't want to give that up. He didn't want to give it up, even for Louis.
Didn't that mean that he didn't love him enough? Wasn't that proof right there that David and Louis could only go so far together?
David pressed his palms into his eyes until he saw stars.