Dark and cold or bright and warm

[forthedog]

There are innumerable bars in the city. Some of them, Mike is familiar with; the ones between the Dollhouse and home are well known to him by now and he to them. Some of them he hasn't met yet, simply by virtue of rarely going into the parts of the city where they are. And one of them he won't go back to, though the glass and the blood are long cleaned up and the bullet is picked out of the wall.

The one he's heading toward isn't really any of these, not entirely new to him but not close enough to be all that familiar, not exactly upscale but also not the kind of dim, smoky dive that he usually goes to when left to his own devices.

He doesn't know what this is about. He feels like he should. Because it's definitely about something.

Meet me at the corner of Haight and Beacon at 9.

It's a cold night and not as crowded as it had been in early fall, and Neil's the only one standing on the corner. Mike moves closer, not hurried, allowing himself the intervening time to just... look. Because naked or clothed, that's another thing he's not anywhere near tired of.

When he stops he looks from Neil to the bar and back again, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Hi."

Comments

[likeaplanet]

It might've been easier if I could've just forgotten like I know he has. Less complicated. Less fucking confusing, trying to keep dates straight and which ones matter now and which ones don't. But even without Tom here, even with our quickie City Hall wedding a few months back, our first wedding... it matters.

But the day before Thanksgiving was too fucking chaotic to make a big deal of it, so instead, I've waited 'til today. I've waited 'til after my shift, shooting off an invitation to one of the nicer bars I've been to in this city. I'm not nervous, not really, but when I see him there on the street corner, my stomach does this funny swoop thing that I can't really ignore.

Grinning crookedly, I close the distance between us and lean in to press my lips to his in a fleeting kiss. "Hey."

[forthedog]

The kiss isn't unexpected, and even as Neil pulls back he reaches down, closes a gentle hand around Neil's wrist and keeps him close. Body heat on a night like this is like a bubble around a person, mixing with another's when it gets close enough.

A hint of a smile flickers across his mouth. "You wanna hang out here, or what?"

[likeaplanet]

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," I smirk, curling a hand in the front of his shirt and tugging him toward the door.

"It's too fuckin' cold out here."

[forthedog]

"Okay." He follows after, still close, fingers still grazing Neil's wrist, all the way inside. The warmth is a slight, pleasant shock on his skin, and he unzips his jacket, looking around at the crowd.

Not empty. Not jam-packed. Good middle ground.

"Bar, or table?"

[likeaplanet]

"Whatever," I shrug, unzipping my coat and taking a look around. "Table, I guess."

There's still this undercurrent of nervousness in my gut, but I try to ignore it as I weave my way toward the back of the bar to claim a secluded table.

[forthedog]

He follows. It's what he would have chosen anyway; a little privacy, everyone else at arm's length for the moment. Because he still can't shake the feeling that this matters.

He shrugs his jacket off and slides into a seat. "So." He leans across the table. "The hell's this about, anyway?

[likeaplanet]

My coat thrown over the back of my chair, I sit down across from him, elbows on the small, round tabletop.

"We got married on the 21st. You, me and Tom, in the front yard of the World Tree. I would've said somethin' 'bout it two days ago, but we were kinda busy, you know?" My eyes are on my hands while I fidget with a raw hangnail on my thumb, just to have an excuse not to look at him.

[forthedog]

It takes him a second. He remembers the thing itself - the Tree, his garden, the sunlight, the girls. Tom's and Neil's hands in his. But the actual time... these memories are like things that float in his mind, untethered. Sometimes out of order.

"Shit," he murmurs, frowning slightly. "I- yeah. I..." He gives Neil a faintly wry smile. "Time's still all fucked."

[likeaplanet]

"Yeah, I know," I say, my own lips curving into a faint smile. "I didn't wanna make a big deal or anything, it's just..."

It seems important, and I can't just let go by like any other day. Last year, there was a party outside the compound. Tabula Rasa day or whatever the fuck. People getting drunk and laughing and having a good time, when I couldn't shake the feeling like I'd lost something irreplaceable. That my life was never gonna be what I wanted.

I fucked a stranger that night. Barely an introduction and we were sneaking back to his room for a quick fuck, and then I was gone before the sheets even cooled. With a sick, guilty lump in the pit of my stomach, I realize I don't let myself think about Tunny much. I'm not even sure I ever mentioned his name to Mike at all.

[forthedog]

"But you couldn't just let it go by." Part of him still doesn't feel fully connected to it. It happened, he remembers it... But it's not fully his.

And now, maybe more than ever, he's not that person.

A cute redheaded girl with a pen and a pad chooses that moment to make her way over to them. He spares her half a smile and orders something or other on draft without really thinking about it.

[likeaplanet]

Without really listening to what he's ordered, I ask for the same. It's not so much about the drink, anyway.

And once she's gone, I admit, "I know it doesn't mean the same thing to you as it does to me, I just... needed to."

[forthedog]

Without thinking, acting on pure impulse, he reaches across the table and closes his hand around Neil's, holds on. It's left to left, and above the background hum of the bar he hears an almost inaudible clink as their rings touch.

"You better not be fucking apologizing."

[likeaplanet]

"I'm not," I whisper, lifting my eyes to his face, my fingers curling tight around his.

"I love you... This time last year kind of sucked, you know?"

[forthedog]

"I know." He can imagine, anyway, or come close to it - though his inability to get his head fully around it probably has a lot to do with the fact that he still doesn't intend to ever live through that kind of loss.

Not knowing what he knows.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

[likeaplanet]

"Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault," I say, looking up when the waitress comes back with our beers, but I don't let go of his hand.

"Apart from nearly dying twice, the last few months," I say with a smirk, and by now I'm mostly used to the slightly tighter pull of scar tissue when I smile, "Things are kinda good, right now."

[forthedog]

"I'm not apologizing either. I'm just sorry it happened." He ignores the beer, ignores everything else but Neil's face and the feel of their hands fitted perfectly together. And this has always been true. This has always been how this works. Even when things are shit and seem seconds from falling apart completely.

And things are good. Now.

"Y'know, I used to wonder what it'd be like if it was just us," he says after a few moments.

[likeaplanet]

"Yeah?" I say, unable to really hide my surprise. Mike and Tom were together long before I came along, in ways that went way beyond fucking, and while I've finally moved past the belief that I'd wedged myself into a relationship that was just as strong or stronger without me, back on the island I'd always believed that they were the two that'd always find eachother. The two that would be together forever, and I figured he believed the same thing.

[forthedog]

"Yeah. Not, like... it was something I wanted." He shoots Neil a slightly rueful smile, giving his hand another squeeze. What they have now, he's grateful for it every single day... but it's also true that he'd still trade up. If it was an option.

"But me and Hobbes - me and Tom. It's just that we were always so fucking different. I wondered if he sorta... made it all possible. Balanced us out. And I wondered if you and me could ever make it work. Back before we had to."

[likeaplanet]

"No shit," I mutter, rolling my eyes, my hand tightening around his. Unable to keep from returning his smile.

"Seems like we're doin' okay, so far."

[forthedog]

He snorts a laugh. "Yeah, sure, except for all the shit that wasn't anything like okay, but whatever."

He looks down at their joined hands again and pulls in a breath. "It's funny you pull me out here tonight. I been thinking about Tom. A lot."

[likeaplanet]

"Everything around us is shit. You and me are pretty okay," I say, and I know that we weren't always, but unless I've been in some kind of deep denial, I'm pretty sure we're managing.

"Yeah," I murmur, my eyes following his to our joined hands, my heart clinching tight in my chest.

[forthedog]

"I never thought he and I were fucking... destined to be together or whatever. Figured I'd bite it and he'd go home to his girl and have a million kids. So when he..." He trails off and rakes his free hand through his hair, not quite looking at Neil. "When we got together, part of it never felt real. Not even after we got married. And he and I were so different, and there's a lot about me that I think he never really got. Never woulda got. No matter how hard he tried."

He looks up again, finally meets Neil's gaze. It's not hard, not really. But it's almost enough to pull the breath out of him.

"I loved him - I love him - more than I'm ever gonna know how to handle. Forever. But you... You said something about soulmates once. I'm pretty sure that sounds like bullshit, but... I don't think I ever had to explain anything to you. You know me. It's like you always have."

[likeaplanet]

It's not what I'm expecting to hear, even if it's something I already knew, and I'm quiet for a long moment, my eyes cutting away from his face. "Jesus, Mike," I whisper, coughing out a laugh and pretending like my eyes aren't all blurry.

"You really gotta say all that shit when we're in a fuckin' bar?" I laugh, turning to look at him with a grin I don't even have any control over.

[forthedog]

"I gotta say it when I can," he murmurs, slipping his hand free from Neil's and reaching up to smudge the dampness away from under Neil's eyes with his thumb.

"You rather I go down on one knee on the beach or some shit?"

[likeaplanet]

"We're already married, stupid," I laugh, batting his hand away only to catch his wrist and press a kiss to his palm.

"I miss him like fuckin' crazy," I admit, "I've never known anybody else like him." He could make me angrier than just about anyone ever could, and could turn around and make me happy like just about nobody else.

[forthedog]

"All-purpose romantic fucking gesture. Gimmie a break, I only know so many."

His fingers linger on Neil's face, one fingertip finding the scar again and tracing a small fraction of its length.

"I know. Me too." Half a smile tugs at his mouth. "But I gotta think we'll see him again, y'know?"

[likeaplanet]

"I wonder where he is now," I murmur, even though I'm beginning to understand that there is no right now. Every place, every time overlaps and what seemed to be in the past might not be at all. We keep meeting over and over, and the only reason it seems like it's all happening one after the other is 'cause we can't make sense of it any other way.

[forthedog]

"Somewhere him and me are probably back in the Realm. Fighting about fucking everything." And the thought shouldn't be comforting, really, but somehow it still is.

He finally reaches for his beer but doesn't immediately drink, watching the light turn the color of honey in the glass. "And somewhere none of us probably ever left."

[likeaplanet]

"And someplace, I never even left New York," I say with a snort of laughter, but according to Wendy, that was true.

"And maybe some universe, I'm there in the Realm, with you."

[forthedog]

"Everything's true somewhere." He shakes his head slightly. "Head'll fucking explode, you think about it too much."

He picks up his beer and finally takes a sip. He doesn't remember what he ordered, but it's good. "So what would this be, anyway? Two years? Three? It's three, right?"

[likeaplanet]

"Yeah, three. Counting that year you were dead," I say, offering up a crooked smile and taking a sip of my own beer. "Four, if you count the year we were together, before we got married."

[forthedog]

"Four. Jesus," he breathes. A small eternity, by his standards. Even though a year of that doesn't really count.

But. "Feels longer. Dunno why."