semperama:

Your wish is my command! Consider this the unofficial official sequel to Jealous.

——–

Hopeful

“He doesn’t want to get married,” Zach said when Chris opened the door. The words keep replaying themselves in Chris’s mind, but he still can’t make sense of them. He already accepted that this was how things were going to play out: Zach and Miles together as a family, with their two dogs and probably a baby soon, all cozy in their picture-perfect New York apartment. In three days, Zach would be going on his honeymoon and Chris would be flying back to LA and they would see each other less and less until it was just one phone call a year, an obligatory check-in. That was the inevitable sequence of events.

And yet here Zach is, sans Miles, sans the ring that has been hanging around his neck for the past year, the one that was supposed to migrate to his left hand on Saturday.

“I don’t understand,” Chris says at last. Zach is sitting on the edge of the bed, and his thousand-yard stare and the dark circles under his eyes tell the tale of an all-night battle. He hasn’t spoken since he walked in the room, and he hasn’t looked at Chris much either. Chris would comfort him, but he doesn’t know how. It’s barely dawn, and Zach isn’t supposed to be here.

“He doesn’t want to get married,” Zach repeats without looking up. “He said he never did. He just wanted to make me happy, and he thought he would come around to the idea.”

“So…so…” God, Chris needs coffee. So much coffee. He looks longingly at the coffee pot, then sighs and crouches down in front of Zach instead, placing a tentative hand on his knee. “So don’t get married? Just….go back to the way things were. You’re living together, you’re happy together.”

Zach finally looks up, but only to shoot Chris a withering look before he lowers his face into his hands. “But I want to get married. I want a wedding. I want a honeymoon. I want a stupid piece of paper that says the government recognizes my right to love whoever the fuck I want to love. Chris.”

Fuck, fuck. Chris reaches up and strokes his fingers through Zach’s hair, his heart clenching with each heave of Zach’s shoulders. He can’t fix this one. He hates that he can’t fix this one. Zach should never look this broken. He is the most put-together person Chris knows.

“Please don’t tell me I’m being stupid,” Zach says, his voice watery and muffled against his palms.

“You aren’t being stupid,” Chris murmurs. And he means it. The fact is, he wants a wedding someday too. It’s the closest to a fairy tale that any person can get—proclaiming to the world ‘I’ve been searching my whole life, and I’ve decided that this one is the one.’ He may keep the romantic inside of him carefully hidden from Zach—and from most other people—but he can imagine himself standing at an altar plain as day. And he can imagine Zach standing across from him just as easily.

“Come home with me,” he blurts. His cheeks start to heat up just in time for Zach to lift his head and look at him in disbelief.

“What?”

The tear tracks on Zach’s face just make Chris want to double down. He takes a deep breath and says it again. “Come home with me. Come back to LA.”

“I…don’t understand…”

“There’s nothing here for you, Zach. You’re going to have to move out anyway, and…just come stay with me for a while. Until you figure out what to do. I have too much room for one person anyway, and I…” He sighs, drops his hand from Zach’s hair to clasp his fingers. “I miss you.”

He expects incredulity or maybe even anger. It’s hardly a declaration of love, but it still feels misplaced when Zach is heartbroken and came to him for comfort. But Zach doesn’t look shocked or mad. He looks…resigned. A little thoughtful. Hope makes Chris’s heart flutter.

“I miss you too,” Zach says at last. “And…and I miss the way things used to be. It feels like I’ve gotten so off course.”

“Then let’s get you back on course.” Chris squeezes Zach’s hand and gets another squeeze in return. Maybe he isn’t the best one for the job, considering how much he’s felt like he’s falling apart himself over the past few months, but he thinks he can do this. He can be strong for Zach, if that’s what’s required of him.

“Okay,” Zach whispers. He leans forward and rests his forehead against Chris’s, and Chris stops breathing. “Okay, I’ll go home with you.”

That isn’t a declaration of love either, but it’s a start.

**blushes furiously because @semper-ama answered my prompt**

Love this so much!!  Now it needs to be a full fic with a wedding at the end.  A big Italian wedding with the piece of paper and Zach getting everything he wanted.  I know, I know…mission creep.

Thank you BB!!