15. Gabe
FIFTEEN
GABE
Gabe kept rolling that moment over in his head. The two of them, lying in bed together, the giggly post-party post-coming out bliss settling into something calmer. Brandon leaned in to kiss him, unmistakably. And Gabe froze.
Brandon was so freshly out, and Gabe knew Brandon was comfortable with him. But Gabe wanted Brandon to find someone special and not kiss the first gay guy he talked to. No matter how much he’d like to kiss Brandon, he couldn’t make that selfish choice.
And then Brandon got sent down again. Abstractly, Gabe had known it could happen.
Brandon had said it was likely to happen.
He could only be up a certain number of games before he’d technically be a rookie.
Gabe didn’t know why that was undesirable.
He just knew they were trying to keep Brandon under the threshold.
Brandon was quiet for the first couple of days back in Iowa, and Gabe wanted to respect him and give him space.
But then he reached out to make sure Gabe was still getting his meal delivery, and Gabe confirmed, and Brandon sent him a hundred bucks for gas for Parker’s Prius, unsolicited.
Things were feeling normal, the almost-kiss a hiccup in an otherwise lovely friendship.
Brandon was up late, on a bus back to Iowa from Chicago after a game, and Gabe was stocking groceries, headphones in, stretching out his back for the hundredth time as he stacked and faced soup cans into neat lines, waiting for Brandon’s next text.
He’d cracked his short story and was excitedly relaying what he wanted the plot arc to look like, and hey, neither of them knew how to write stories, but it was still fun to talk about it.
If Brandon had decided that the not-kiss was the end of their friendship, it would have torn Gabe up.
Brandon had quickly become such a default part of his day, a constant thought pinging in the back of his mind as he shoveled snow, or struggled with Illustrator on his ancient computer, or tried to grab a quick nap between everything.
He was the channel Gabe was tuned to, and it was nice to have his favorite program back.
Brandon
Now I just have to actually write it lmao. Not sure how I’m going to make five thousand words out of it.
Gabe looked up and down the aisle to make sure the coast was clear before responding.
Gabe
Haha 3 to 5, so that’s a big range. I believe in you. You’re further than me. I feel like I have an idea that is just an interesting thought and not an actual story. I’m not sure what should happen, you know?
Brandon
I wish I had an answer for you. We have that group meeting next week. You could see if Chloe or Haruto have any ideas.
Also I miss you. I hope that’s not weird. I hope I don’t regret saying that.
Gabe
No, man, not weird. I miss you too.
Gabe was sure that he was looking at his phone with some gross, soft look on his face. He took another glance at his empty aisle. If his manager caught him with his phone out, he wouldn’t care. Still, Gabe tried to be careful about phone use.
Brandon
We’re staying put for a while. I know your schedule is complicated, and this is short notice, but if you wanted to visit this weekend, I’d really like to see you.
Gabe thought about his weekend. It was Thursday.
Friday morning he’d have a grounds crew shoveling shift.
He didn’t have classes Friday, but he had a lot of homework to get done.
Saturday, he usually picked up a shift at the coffee shop if there was one open.
And another overnight stock shift. But…god, he wanted to go see Brandon.
They’d left off on such a weird note. Plus, it would be nice to have an excuse to have a break. He never got a break.
Brandon
If it’s a money thing, don’t worry, I’ll reimburse you for any money you lose out on by not working. And buy you a flight. And pay your Uber to the airport. And buy you snacks or something. You can come to a game.
Gabe smiled. At first, he wasn’t sure how to feel about the money thing, but now he could see it for what it was. Brandon wanted to take care of him. It made Gabe feel cared for.
Gabe
I’m going to see if one of my coworkers wants my Saturday shift, hold on.
Gabe had been on an airplane once before, to go to his uncle’s funeral, a fact that had shocked Brandon.
After the initial shock wore off, he talked Gabe through the whole process.
Gabe packed a backpack with some clothes and his iPad, and Duncan drove him to the airport, since Parker didn’t do airport pickups or drop-offs. Too stressful.
“Getting on an airplane to get laid is pretty fancy,” Duncan said as they pulled up to MSP Airport departures.
“It’s not like that,” Gabe said. “Kinda wish it was like that. He just needs a friend right now. And I need a break.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Duncan agreed. He had flour in his hair and dried sourdough starter on the collar of his shirt.
He was taking Gabe to the airport between bread rises.
Duncan had the same dark circles under his eyes that Gabe had.
His microbakery was taking it out of him.
“Fly safe. Drop a message in the group chat when you land.”
Gabe grabbed his backpack out of the back seat of Duncan’s ancient Ford Focus and saluted him.
It would have been faster to drive down, even though the flight was just over an hour, due to all the hubbub of the airport, but Gabe didn’t have a car.
Parker and Mac were generous to share with him, but there were limits even he wouldn’t push against, and driving out of state for a whole weekend was one of them.
He listened to a podcast and worked on homework on his iPad on the flight, and before he knew it, he was back on land. He shot Brandon a text. Brandon had been waiting in the cell phone lot, and when Gabe made it to the pickup line, there he was, in a geriatric green Subaru Forester.
He leaned over the center console to open the passenger door for Gabe, and then they were off.
Gabe had rearranged and finagled his schedule, giving up a grocery shift his coworker happily snapped up for overtime, and he hoped he’d be able to find the time while Brandon was doing hockey stuff to get some drawing done.
Brandon’s smile was blasting off his face as they got on the road to his apartment, and even though this was just friendship, when Brandon reached out to hold his hand, Gabe took it.
Brandon wasn’t sure if they would have time to visit the Art Center, but he drove them past the sculpture garden, and Gabe recognized the glossy white fiberglass of Yoshitomo Nara and Keith Harring’s signature colorful dancing figures.
He pointed out the tangle of bright red steel I-beams to Brandon as they drove past. “We have a Mark di Suvero at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden.”
“And that big spoon,” Brandon said .
“ Spoonbridge and Cherry by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen.” Gabe was deeply fond of that spoon and cherry—the symbol of his city.
“I like listening to you talk about art. It’s cool that you just know that.”
“I’m sure your head is full of hockey facts.”
“Yeah, but I’m not impressed with what I know.
” Gabe laughed, already glad he’d taken the weekend off and come down here on a whim to visit a man he didn’t know very well, all told.
But that warm feeling he got around Brandon was back, and Gabe wanted nothing more than to stay in his orbit for as long as possible.
They grabbed food on the way back at Brandon’s favorite hole-in-the-wall smashburger place, and Gabe had to stop himself from eating his burger in the car.
“Skylar got called up, so he won’t be here this weekend,” Brandon explained as he turned the key in his front door. They had the whole place to themselves. Gabe wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Did they need supervision? “I know this place doesn’t have any character, but?—”
“I’m not judging you based on your temporary apartment. I’m just happy to be here.” The tension in Brandon’s shoulders disappeared.
“Thanks. I know you’re not, but your place is so cool, and mine is?—”
“My place has just been marinating for longer. It’s nice that your place isn’t cluttered. Sometimes, especially in my bedroom, I feel like I’m living in a storage closet.”
“I like your room.” Brandon blushed. God, that blush would be the death of Gabe.
They ate their burgers and tots in front of the TV while Brandon told him about the game that night. Gabe had never been to a hockey game, so Brandon had asked a teammate’s girlfriend to come pick him up.
“I hope that’s okay. Your tickets are all in the same spot in the arena, so it’s not like you could avoid them. Unless you want me to get you a random ticket in a different?—”
“That’s really thoughtful of you,” Gabe said. “You know I’m not shy.”
“I’m sorry that there’s a ruse to keep up.”
“A ruse.” Gabe laughed. “It’s more fun to call it a ruse than a lie. And don’t apologize. I happily volunteered. Telling people we’re dating isn’t a hardship. Plus, I know it makes this easier for you.”
“I wish I didn’t need the help.”
“We all need help with things. It’s okay. Plus, it’s not like you’re not helping me at all.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? You see something I need and you take care of it. This is the same. If you need something, I’m here for you.”
Brandon took another bite of his burger, chewing as he mulled it over. Gabe liked how Brandon thought before he spoke. Gabe rarely did that himself, but it was sexy.
“Thank you,” he landed on. It was good enough for Gabe.
Brandon had to leave weirdly early for his game but gave him the phone number of the girlfriend who was picking him up, changed into a suit—one Gabe hadn’t seen before—and gave Gabe a big hug before he left.