#thido

Goyo is slowly but surely driving him insane.

The man is a fucking enigma. He might as well wear a question mark as his face because it’d tell Blackbeard just as much about his current mood or thoughts or expectations or hopes or fears as his actual face does (though he’s glad Goyo’s face is his actual face, seeing as it’s quite nice to look at, which isn’t to imply he’d like Goyo any less if he had no face, but it’d make kissing him a lot more complicated).

When he met him, Blackbeard thought him to be one of those quiet, cool guys who are just good at their job, and when they’re not at their job, they phase from existence because their job is all they are. Which is fine with Blackbeard. Some of his colleagues are like that: when anyone asks them about their hobbies, they’re hard pressed to come up with a reply since work isn’t a hobby, and neither is preparing for work.

But the moment Goyo first opened his mouth, Blackbeard realised his first impression couldn’t have been more wrong, because he sounds calm and sophisticated and confident and it instantly throws him off kilter. No, this isn’t some genius, this is one of those dudes who can’t take a joke, who think themselves better than everybody else, who react to things they deem profane not with honest opinions but rather thinly-veiled condescension, and they’re the worst. They’re the ones with whom Blackbeard has never gotten along, seeing as he was never sure whether they kept him around to secretly make fun of him, or out of misplaced pity, or to become more popular, or because they’re too awkward to be openly rude.

They’re the ones he can’t read. They never laugh along. They quietly sit next to him until someone calls on them and then they effortlessly trump him with whatever they have to say.

He justified his own actions with the excuse of ‘at least I’m being sincere’ for the longest time. He doesn’t like them, and so he shows it, meaning everyone knows where they’re at. After he’s declared his dislike, some kind of arrangement is made, and they never have to speak to each other again (only he had trouble keeping away because it is kinda gratifying to watch them squirm in discomfort) – and clearly, it’s better than putting up a front made up of false niceties and fake smiles which doesn’t hold up for a second longer as soon as they’re not in the same room anymore.

These days, he’s come to a different conclusion. They simply worried him.

Some of them bested him in various disciplines, causing him to push himself harder because he didn’t want to be left behind and because he can’t let someone he doesn’t like overtake him. Their indifference towards him left him insecure since he’s a people pleaser at heart, wants to be loved and admired by everybody and simply had absolutely no fucking clue how he could get them to like him. And he always thought this sentiment was universal: everyone wants to be popular, don’t they? All humans want to be liked. Only these specific people’s very existence threatened this world view. They didn’t want to be liked by everybody. So what did it mean that they got to the same place as Blackbeard, when he obeyed all the rules and played all the games? Conventions exist for a reason, and shouldn’t be ignored like that.

So yes. Goyo was one of those.

Except he wasn’t. Thermite found him hilarious. Pulse developed a sudden interest in Goyo’s field of expertise. Ash invited him out for drinks. Valkyrie appreciated his earnest nature (and really, what the hell?). The only one with whom Goyo pointedly didn’t interact was Blackbeard.

And they kept going on about how friendly he was, and how well he fit in, and Blackbeard didn’t understand. Stared hard at this mystery of a man and just didn’t understand. Goyo wasn’t stand-offish. He obeyed some rules and played most games, just not Blackbeard's favourite ones, and neither did he let him provoke him, which deprived Blackbeard of the satisfaction of making him uncomfortable as well. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

But there was another problem. He’s gay.

It’s a can of worms he’d prefer not to open – if his mind was a house, then he’d shoved all of… that down the stairs into the basement, never to be seen again, collecting dust and sitting untouched. (It’s only recently that he’s begun clearing some of it out, airing it, finding use for it in the living room or somewhere else.) And whenever he learnt that anyone in his vague vicinity was gay, the door slammed open and something yelled at him really loudly the two words which would haunt him for a few weeks:

WHAT IF.

Dumb. Useless.

Disruptive, even, it’s not like he’d do anything, it’s not like the guy would do anything, it’s unlikely to be a topic between them, and still he wonders what it’d be like to kiss whoever was unfortunate enough to haunt Blackbeard for a while. This happens with everyone. Intrusive thoughts he can’t for the life of him control. They do fade the longer he knows the person, fortunately, but in the beginning, whenever the name is mentioned, his brain flashes him a question à la what would it feel like to hug him. Never has he acted on it, nor has he confessed this to anyone, which… likely made it worse, alright, now he knows it, but as a terrified navy officer, his main concern wasn’t whether he might regret neglecting that unwanted basement in his head later in life.

He made a point of never joking about it. Not he himself, at least. Not about this. If anyone ever noticed, they didn’t mention it to him.

In any case, there was the fact that Goyo was there and not going to go away any time soon, and he was gay, and really handsome. The tingly kind of handsome. The car crash kind, making it impossible to look away, with his stupid beard and the weird, sexual way he sits, and how he twirls his pens around without even realising. His smile is…

Blackbeard didn’t want to label him with anything past handsome, not pretty or attractive or (god forbid) hot, because it fell too well in line with the WHAT IF still regularly being screamed at him, despite the weeks they’ve spent as acquaintances already, and for some reason, this time, it doesn’t go away.

With other colleagues, it vanished very quickly, but Goyo? Goyo starts appearing in his dreams. Just once or twice, really, nothing compromising, a few words exchanged or a laugh (and he’s seen him laugh in Valkyrie’s presence, and dear fucking lord), but it has an uncomfortable side effect.

His brain convinces him he has some kind of claim on him. Nothing insane, not like he thinks Goyo owes him anything, and yet… He knows Goyo is single, so he should appreciate any offer he gets, and Blackbeard is certain Goyo would prefer if they got along better anyway, and besides, Blackbeard is a catch, right? He’s good-looking, funny, skilled, forthright, adventurous – nothing to scoff at. Surely it’s enough to warrant a try.

And when he’s instantly shot down, he realises that he can’t read this man at all.

.

Unfortunately for both of them, it’s a recurring theme in their interactions. Even after a while, even after Blackbeard has noticed Goyo’s lips thinning when he disapproves of something, or that his ‘yeah it’s fine’ is sometimes nothing more than a passive-aggressive ‘I’d prefer something else’, even then he doesn’t know the source of it. Because Goyo just doesn’t fucking talk to him.

The basics are there.

Not only that, the basics are great and Blackbeard is fully aware of it: both of them are putting effort into their relationship. He once heard it’s the single most important aspect of anything meant to last, and his prior relationships seem to support this claim – and hands down, both of them are committed to this. There’s not a single day without any type of contact, whether it’s texting, a short call, or meeting up, Goyo keeps track of what he likes to eat and cooks accordingly, Blackbeard brings small gifts, they pay each other compliments which are heartfelt and earnest, and they compromise on how they spend their time together. They’re comfortable around each other. He looks forward to seeing him every day that he does.

And there’s the whole… other stuff. All of which leaves Blackbeard flustered whenever he even thinks about it, and he’ll say this much: Goyo is infinitely more passionate than he would’ve expected. Generous, too. And really, really good.

That said, this is where the ‘but’ comes in (and no, he’s not referring to the fun part anymore).

Goyo can’t fucking communicate. It’s driving Blackbeard up the walls. He’s totally incapable of putting his emotions into words, which makes no sense at all. Once they started dating and Goyo opened up more, the complaints began, and honestly? Blackbeard was delighted. Because Goyo didn’t just nag, he pointed out aspects which bothered him in a constructive way and either suggested a solution or appreciated it when Blackbeard corrected it himself – or he was satisfied with a compromise. Maybe not always satisfied, there are still unresolved issues like him being inept to show up on time, ever, and insisting he’s in the right, but even then he doesn’t make a big fuss over it. Banter, yes. Some teasing. Remarks delivered with a grin. Tongue-in-cheek comments. Blackbeard does exactly the same, so he respects it.

In the past, it’s happened a few times that his current girlfriend was unhappy about something but didn’t mention it, not really, not to the point where Blackbeard would’ve realised it to be as serious as it turned out to be. Instead, her dissatisfaction grew and grew, in one instance accompanied by contempt, and eventually came an outburst he couldn’t have prevented if he tried, seeing as he knew nothing about it. Having a partner this vocal about problems is refreshing.

But there are certain topics Goyo doesn’t mention. Or moments where he simply clams up. It’s impossible to tell when it’ll happen or why, but now and then Goyo gets utterly lost in his own thoughts (or at least that’s what Blackbeard thinks is happening), and then he either loses the thread of their conversation entirely, or takes forever to reply. Blackbeard gets incredibly antsy whenever he receives no reaction, so his boyfriend doing it to him is twice as bad. He’s aware Goyo lives inside his head a lot of the time, sure, and as a result, almost everything he says is well thought through and genuine (at least the non-sarcastic bits), but for him, it’s difficult to deal with nonetheless. He often panics during those pauses and wonders whether he’s done something wrong and Goyo is currently trying to work out how to break it to him.

And when it comes to Goyo’s feelings, he’s a lost cause. Blackbeard doesn’t doubt for a second that Goyo spends a good portion of his time analysing himself and introspecting, it’s just… he doesn’t seem to be very good at it.

That, or he also has a basement full of dusty, forgotten, pushed-away objects.

Goyo thinks himself ‘sociable enough’. It’s how he himself expressed it. Blackbeard begs to differ, and strongly so: Goyo hardly ever seeks out other people, regularly turns down invitations as well and is awfully quiet in groups, not to mention he takes forever to warm up to people (and there’s the not-so-small matter about his lack of punctuality too). Blackbeard finds his behaviour quite rude a lot of the time and is pretty sure the others only give Goyo the benefit of the doubt to be nice.

He says of himself that he’s not very demanding, only to keep demanding things of Blackbeard. More touching. More housework. Less gym time. No shaving. More spontaneity (and he seems to overlook the obvious irony in telling someone to be spontaneous).

This is another thing: he keeps disrupting Blackbeard's daily schedule without feeling a shred of guilt over it. Calling at inopportune times, trying to keep him in bed in the morning, suddenly wanting to eat lunch a specific place, changing plans they made weeks ago a few minutes before leaving. It’s like he’s testing Blackbeard's patience and adaptability.

And the worst thing of all is simultaneously also the best thing: Blackbeard really, really, really likes him.

If he were a dog, his tail wouldn’t stop wagging for a second in Goyo’s presence. His brain fills with exclamation marks any time he sees him. Any compliments Goyo has ever paid him play on repeat, his smile is the last image Blackbeard sees before he goes to sleep, and he’s the first person he texts whenever anything happens. He has no idea what caused Goyo’s change of heart, what made him give Blackbeard a chance, but he’s endlessly grateful it happened. The fluttering in his stomach still hasn’t stopped when they’re spending quality time together, and his heart thumps twice as fast whenever they kiss. It’s the worst crush of his life and he doesn’t even know how it developed.

When he wants to be, Goyo is exceedingly witty, charming, supportive, empathetic, patient, loving, trusting. They’ve had a long conversation about sexuality which corrected some of the preconceptions Blackbeard still held, and at no point did he feel patronised, alienated, or uncomfortable. It’s probably what keeps them together: the knowledge they respect and trust each other. Goyo knows he’d never knowingly hurt his feelings, and he believes the same of Goyo. Jealousy is no topic between them, and boundaries are regularly drawn, re-drawn, negotiated, accepted. (Though not nearly as often as Blackbeard would’ve liked. He’s aware Goyo can feel suffocated sometimes and would prefer them to talk it out properly, but it’s one of the topics Goyo usually deflects.)

.

With how communicative Blackbeard is, he’s suffered from the lack of outside feedback on their relationship. Asking for advice is out of the question as no one else knows he’s dating anyone, and not being able to gush about the way Goyo sometimes wraps himself around him when they’re watching something on his bed kills him a little inside. He wants to share it all, the good and the bad, seeks reassurance on everything he’s doing and desires normality. A state where he can throw in ‘oh yes, my boyfriend mentioned it the other day’ without earning any kind of odd reaction. A world where the others ask him about how Goyo is doing, and whether they’ve been to this restaurant yet, and so on.

He knows that he himself is the only obstacle in this, but his track record in Rainbow hasn’t been the best and he’s worried the girls will call him out on hitting on them with no intention of starting a relationship. Which wouldn’t actually be far off the mark, unfortunately. Valkyrie is his best bet since they’re thick as thieves, but she’s been side-eyeing him for a while already and he’s pretty sure she suspects something. He hates when she can go ‘I told you so’ and be right about it.

Regardless, he’s going to explode if he can’t talk about Goyo to someone soon, and Vigil will certainly not want to hear about how ticklish his Mexican colleague is.

.

“Meghan, I need to tell you something”, he blurts out, startling his best friend and nearly causing her to drop her beer. They’re on Buck’s balcony, holding on to cans as if they were their lifeline to what little bit of their sanity is left after everyone heard Maverick suggest bodyshots earlier (only half jokingly), and then Castle murdered everyone by showing off photos of his newly adopted puppy. Even Blackbeard was squealing like a little girl. He really should look into adopting a dog himself. He wonders whether Goyo likes dogs.

“Don’t tell me you want to join Sanaa on her odyssey”, Valkyrie interrupts his thoughts, looking worried. “They’re all trying to deter her for a reason, we don’t need you encouraging -”

“What are you talking about?”, he interrupts her, aghast, and once her words have sunk in, he repeats: “No, really, what are you talking about? That sounds amazing. I wanna be a part of it. Where is she going?”

“Craig.”

Odd. Goyo sounds almost the same whenever he’s displeased. Blackbeard should text him about the dog later. “Yes. Where was I?”

“You made a vague threat.”

He blinks at her for a moment, mind blank. Goyo has said before that alcohol causes his brain to misfire, and he’s beginning to believe it. “Oh. Yes. Meghan, I’m dating someone. And don’t be smug, okay? I can’t deal with smug right now.”

Valkyrie’s lips twitch in amusement. “Would you like supportive? That’s great! I’m so happy for you! I hope it’s going wonderful, you really deserve it!”

“You’re the worst”, he informs her, prompting a laugh.

“It’s been a while already, hasn’t it?” He nods. He supposes it’s obvious to anyone who knows him well enough, and Valkyrie certainly does. After all, he can’t stop smiling on some days and must look like a lunatic. Maybe he should send a nice text first so Goyo knows he thought of him. “I figured. How is it going and why is it César?”

He chokes on his beer. She doesn’t even have the grace to look guilty while he’s busy coughing his lungs out, and when he makes an inquisitive sound, she even smirks. It was bad enough to learn that Smoke and Mute found out about their relationship (and he’s still not entirely sure about whether they found out on their own or Goyo helped a bit), and now it turns out Valkyrie knew all along?

“Don’t worry, no one else knows. But neither of you were very subtle about it to me. You kept asking about him, he kept asking about you… plus you’ve been really nice to him recently.”

Oh. He asked about Blackbeard? This is relevant information. He opens his mouth to inquire some more, but Valkyrie adds casually: “And he at least is openly gay. Very open. Remember how he mentioned his male ex-fiancé on the first day? He really didn’t allow for any ambiguity.”

And hold up. Blackbeard's brain struggles to process what it just heard. Wait.

Wait what.

.

There are two cans cooking on the stove.

Blackbeard is failing to grasp reality right now. He dumbly stares at the two unlabelled metal cans sitting in boiling water and doesn’t understand what’s happening. He doesn’t understand much of what’s going on at the moment anyway, and he’s fairly sure it’s not just the alcohol’s fault. The water bubbles happily around the objects, and time and space are collapsing around him.

“Hey, Bee”, comes a familiar voice from behind him and he’s embraced in a tight hug, lips planting themselves on his shoulder a few times before he’s released again. “You’re back early.”

“Jack’s apartment flooded. A few went with him to help, but Meghan dropped me off here. The hell are you making? Tin-flavoured soup?”

Goyo laughs and though the sound would normally flood him with endorphins, right now he just eyes the other man with a frown. “No, it’s dulce de leche.”

Blackbeard tries and fails to put the delicious caramel-like substance in any relation to what’s happening before him, though he does file something away for later perusal: he should ask Goyo to speak more Spanish around him. He might be onto something there. “How?”

“Sweetened condensed milk. When you boil it long enough, it turns into gooey ambrosia. You mentioned how you were looking for new ideas for ice cream – swirl this into anything and blow everyone’s minds.”

Oh. That does sound delicious, and the fact that Goyo is staying up late to do him a favour is also heartwarming, but the question burning on Blackbeard's tongue will not sit idly for a second longer. He asks: “Why did you never tell me of your ex-fiancé?”

Goyo, checking out the timer next to the pot, responds with another question without lifting his gaze: “Oh. Which one?”

He can’t be serious. Blackbeard waits, fully expecting him to be joking, but he seems genuinely surprised at Blackbeard's dumbstruck expression when he finally does look up. “I’ve had a turbulent past involving a few poor decisions”, he admits and something tells Blackbeard there’s a good possibility this is a massive understatement. “Is that a problem?”

Is it? He’s not entirely sure. The fact that he had to hear about it from Valkyrie might be one, and then there’s his crumbling impression of Goyo as someone largely sensible. He comes across as well-mannered, composed, logical – though Blackbeard has noticed most of these waver over time. The deeper he dives, the more of the iceberg he sees. “You just… seemed like someone who has his life together”, he says weakly. Goyo has friends and family who care about him, is comfortable in his own skin, good at his job.

His words are mulled over for a while with pursed lips, until Goyo decides: “I suppose I do. Except for my love life.”

“You did say at one point that all relationships you had were long, meaningful and deep. So I figured…”

“My relationships were mostly great, yes. Anything that doesn’t fall into that category, well”, and Goyo makes an uncertain hand gesture which, once again, fills Blackbeard with a sense of foreboding dread as it screams understatement. “I did start out by paying a guy to fuck me.”

Blackbeard has no clue how to react, and so he chooses to stare at his boyfriend in horror.

“Yeah. Life was tough where I grew up. This super hot straight dude caught wind of me being a reliable source of cigarettes and asked me about it. I convinced him to fuck me for smokes – which I was buying with my allowance money, I think.”

“Allowance”, Blackbeard echoes stupidly. “Wait, how old were you?”

“I think fifteen, why does it matter, Bee?”

“How old was the dude?!”

“Early twenties? Thinking about it, he really should’ve handled his finances better.”

Blackbeard is in shock. “So… he took advantage of you. Lightly said.” Very lightly.

To his utter disbelief, Goyo simply frowns and shakes his head. “What? No. It was my idea. I had to talk him into it.”

“Yeah but – you were a minor. He was an adult, he shouldn’t have -”

“Did you miss the part where he not only sold his body for some cigs but also let a teenager get the better of him? What about that makes it seem like he’d fell any reasonable decisions in his life?”

“Did you report him? Did he get arrested?” He can’t wrap his head around why Goyo seems so calm talking about this.

“Huh? Not for sleeping with me, no. He was a thieving piece of shit though, so he did end up in jail.”

“Stop defending him, do you really think he did nothing wrong?”

Goyo eyes him curiously. “Do you think that he did?”

And of course. Of course he does, it’s not just personal opinion with this kind of shit, it’s a fact that an adult exploited Goyo and how does he not see it? How can he view it any other way? Blackbeard has trouble putting his outrage in words, so he attempts a different angle: “Are you saying you’d be alright with someone else who’s twenty sleeping with a teenager who’s -”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Generally, of course not. But we’re talking about me here. I know what happened. I can assess it from my point of view.”

“But you were too young -”

“You don’t get to rewrite my past”, Goyo interrupts him sharply and so Blackbeard shuts up, dissatisfied. Next to them, the kitchen timer erupts into frantic beeping, prompting Goyo to turn the heat off, pluck the cans out of the pot with a pair of tongs and put them on a wire rack to cool.

Meanwhile, Blackbeard tries to decide whether all this changes how he sees the man before him. He’s not sure.

“Laws are in place for a reason and I’d be the first one to tell any teenager not to do what I did”, Goyo continues, directed at the slightly steaming metal. “But what I did happened and it was what I really wanted at the time. We do stupid things when we’re young. You don’t get to judge me for it. Only I can, and I’m not.”

It’s hard to relate. Blackbeard wouldn’t say he grew up sheltered, but certainly privileged, and though there’s plenty of stuff he did which he’d advise against, there’s none he’d defend like this. Except Goyo might be explaining instead of defending. He refuses to condemn while still being aware of the shady circumstances.

“Look, Bee, no one got hurt. Quite the opposite. Let’s leave it at that and go to bed, hm?” Goyo kisses him briefly before exiting the kitchen, already pulling his shirt over his head and exposing his toned back in the process. The sight awakens a strong urge to touch, but not in a sexual way – Blackbeard is filled with a comfortable sense of belonging instead. He knows what Goyo’s smooth skin feels like and that he’s free to caress it as much as he wants. It’s one of his favourite perks of any relationship: being allowed to show physical affection.

A little lost and still dazed from their previous topic, he trails after his lover and watches Goyo strip down to his underwear in the bedroom. “I wasn’t planning on going to sleep immediately”, he says, knowing full well he’ll climb in after Goyo regardless.

“We don’t have to sleep.”

Blackbeard stares at him blankly, thoughts continuously trying to process their conversation.

“I’ll read a bit and you can text some people. You told Meghan about us, didn’t you? She sent me a single message an hour ago which just said good luck.”

It seems this would be all Goyo has to say on the matter of his sexual past for now, and Blackbeard belatedly realises that he avoided mentioning his ex-fiancé (ex-fiancés??) entirely, so he should prepare for a similar talk in the near future. It’s become a habit of theirs which he genuinely doesn’t like – they address a topic, argue, and then drop it without a satisfying conclusion, without being on the same page. Most of the time, it ends up merely postponing the issue as it inevitably comes up again, though he does suppose there’s some merit in being able to think it through on his own before tackling it again. Both of them can be quite stubborn, and a break to sort their thoughts (and in Blackbeard's case, engage some outside advice) is beneficial.

So maybe it’s not so bad to not ruin the night with something they’ll ultimately refuse to agree on, and instead cuddle in bed.

Goyo becomes a temporary magnet in these instances, impossible to pry off, and Blackbeard has no choice but to hold him tight and bask in his body heat. Not like he’d want anything other than exactly this.

“Was it scary?”, Goyo mutters into his hair while stroking his back. They’ll separate soon and wind down in their own way before sleeping, but right now they just enjoy each other’s presence.

“She already knew I’m bi. She likes you and I trust her. Why would it be scary?”

“Still. It’s fine if it was.”

Blackbeard is silent for a minute. “A bit”, he admits and feels Goyo’s lips stretch into a smile.

“I’m glad it seemed to have gone well. And I’m proud of you.”

And this, this is why Blackbeard basically fawns over this bastard all day in his head. His heart throbs and he pulls Goyo even closer, relieved that the prior revelations apparently don’t make a difference between them. Goyo is right, the past can’t be changed, but neither does it need to dictate the present. “It did go well, she said you’d be good for me on the way here. She also mentioned you asking about me.”

Goyo chuckles. “You know, the first thing I ever asked about you was whether you’ve got a wife.”