bruised but not broken;

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Like, chips and stuff, man. I mean, donuts are okay, but there’s nothing like a fresh bag of chips and a beer late at night.

Damn, well that’s uh.. you’re a simple man, huh?

“Well, you definitely looked like a performer up there tonight. It felt like it was a natural thing for you, like you weren’t scared or nervous, or anything. I actually just got here, so you’re the best i’ve heard so far.”

“Oh.. thank you.” He rubbed his arms and spun his guitar around so it was hanging on his back. “So far so good, but just wait. There’s a pianist going up soon and they will blow you outta the water.”

Chest against chest, Noah felt the other’s breathing and his masculine hair that tickled him. It was a nice addition the the older version of a man he loved as a teenager. Both had seemed to grow in their manliness, probably in more ways than not. Noah moaned, giving a small smile as he flew his head back. “Have at it…” Just like old times, he knew what Dublin wanted to do. “Don’t hold back.”

“Probably meant for guys to just use me.” He said with a shrug, letting the other guide him through the house. “Hm, I’ll just sleep in my boxers. Are you okay with that?”

“For.. guys to just use you? I-- I didn’t use you, Edmund. Of course I didn’t use you. What are you talking about? Is there something.. someone else?” He opened the door to his bedroom and led Edmund to his bed. “That’s fine with me, yeah.”

“No, I’m not upset about that.” He whispered quietly. “Can we just sleep and you can hold me and stuff?”

“Then what’s wrong, huh? I-- yeah. Fine.” Dublin led them into the house and to his bedroom. “You need sweats or you just gonna sleep in boxers?”

Unless it’s my mother’s Amaretto cake, I’m not really one for sweets, brother. 

What kind of snacks were you looking for, then? As a baker I kinda assume everyone wants sweets. 

He breathed heavily, pulling off the other’s shirt. “Never again…” Noah knew that this was better than anything he had felt in years. He never wanted to leave. Not after what he thought he didn’t have with the other man. He moaned as the kisses began to run down his jaw, his head falling back to expose his neck. “So does that mean I get to stay the night?” He teased.

“Thanks,” he whispered meekly. He hated how the night was finishing. The two of them, sadder than a dog. Both of them unsure of what the fuck they were doing. And yet, ending up in the same bed where they had more of an idea of what they were doing with… whatever they were. As he sobered up, he had the most pitiful thoughts run through his mind. He was trash anyways, he knew it. “I’m sorry, Dublin. I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen. I mean, not the sad parts. We’re pathetic. I don’t like myself right now.”

“What the hell is going on in your mind, Edmund? It’s not like you can be all of a sudden upset now because we aren’t going to fuck. What’s the issue?”

“And now I’m asking the same question myself now every day. Seeing you…. ugh…“ He didn’t even have the words to describe, letting another moan pass through his lips. His shirt came off, giving him a bit of a chill, not remembering the last time he had it off in front of another person. “But, I’m back now… I’m back..” He whispered, feeling along his back with his hands, so familiar to something so much better, toned and perfect.

Truth be told, he wanted to go home. But going home meant being in an empty bed and trying to tell himself that everything was okay when it wasn’t. The thought alone made him want to tear up. And yet, he shook his head and waved his hand. “You’re not disposable, Dublin. I–” He didn’t even know what to say; or how to make words work. The writer lacked words for one of the few times in his life. Instead, he let the words hang in the air, hoping the silence could tell him how much the other actually meant to him. And, if he wasn’t an idiot, how he would probably be entering his boyfriend’s house, and not his friend’s. Reaching a hand over, he found his and nodded. “I’ll spend the night with you. Only if I can be the little spoon.”

The booze started to wear off now, his mind becoming a hell of a lot more clear. He was terribly fond of Edmund, and if he wasn’t so fucking head over heels for the man who broke his heart, he would try to court him. He and Edmund would be such a good pair, and yet their hearts weren’t in it. It was unfortunate, honestly. Especially when there were lingering feelings for the man in front of him. “You can be the little spoon, sure.”

Look. I know Camila can’t cook for shit, so I’m not expecting a five course meal here, but. Does anyone know where she hides her snacks?

Not particularly, no? But if ya came by the bakery I could hook you up with some.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth parting as he couldn’t understand the sudden turn in Dublin’s mood. His hand fell to his side and he rolled his lower lip into his mouth, biting on it. “Dublin, what are you on about? There aren’t “plenty of people”, what’s gotten into you?” Edmund asked, scratching the back of his head. Was he not meant to be with someone he used to be with? With the man he enjoyed waking up beside most mornings, and getting drunk with most nights?

Dublin felt terrible now after the accusatory tone he took with Edmund, his whole face contorting into a frown that you didn’t have to see to simply sense that he was upset. “I’m sorry. I just all of a sudden feel very disposable and that’s kind of a mood killer. Come in with me anyway? Please? Spend the night with me.”