Chapter 4 The one with the homemade meal
Dylan had been watching Jared closely for a few days. He had no idea what was going on with him, but he was moody, exhaustion etched across his face.
It had been a hectic week at the office, but something told him it wasn’t work that was worrying his friend.
He’d been racking his brain the whole morning, even considered the possibility of Jared being sick after taking care of him. Though he seemed healthy as a tree—no coughing, runny nose or anything.
He’d also felt ashamed at one point. The vague memories of shit he shouldn’t have blurted while he was feverish made him think he had maybe overstepped a boundary or two and didn’t remember.
However, they still took their breaks together on the days they’d both been at the office and were swapping obnoxious jokes like always.
Jared didn’t shy away from looking him in the eye either.
Not even earlier that afternoon when they’d been alone in the lift after lunch—a space so small, Dylan didn’t know what to do with himself because all he wanted was to pin Jared against the wall and ravish his mouth.
Anyway, it was unlikely that whatever was going on with Jared was work-related, and there hadn’t been any weirdness between them that raised red flags.
And although he was quite reserved, he’d sporadically talk to Dylan when he needed to vent.
So, if someone in his family or a close friend was in trouble, he would have said something.
Whatever the reason, Jared wasn’t himself. His clothes were wrinkled, the bags under his eyes noticeable, and he’d been existing on sandwiches for a week.
“Everything okay?”
“Hm?” Jared asked as he took one of his earphones out.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” Jared nodded. “Why?”
“You look... tired.”
Jared chuckled bitterly. “Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a prick and say you look like shit.”
“But you are a prick.” He grinned, only confirming Dylan’s suspicions. Because as hard as he pretended to be okay, the cheekiness of his words didn’t reach his eyes. “And it’s not like it’s a lie.”
“Wanna talk?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Now that’s a cry for help if I've ever heard one. “By buying me a beer after work,” Dylan said, grinning to keep it light.
“Sounds good,” he agreed, turning to his screen without sharing another word.
Time passed slower than ever, every minute making Dylan feel more and more anxious. Why? He had no fucking idea. Listening to people ramble about their problems wasn’t his favourite hobby, but he was truly worried.
In all the time he had known Jared, he had never looked so... disheartened. It was disturbing, like a bunch of spiders creeping under his skin.
Glancing at him from time to time, Dylan realized that after receiving several texts, Jared had changed his phone from vibration mode to silent.
Yet it kept lighting up. Someone was eager to talk to him.
The feeling didn’t seem mutual, though, as his jaw continued clenching and unclenching every time he peeked at the device.
“Fuck this shit,” Jared grumbled, pushing his rolling chair away from the table and letting his arms fall limp at his sides. They still had twenty minutes left of their shift, but he was clearly not having it, and Dylan was more than ready to finish for the day.
“Should we get going?” he offered.
“Yes, please. I’m so frustrated. Can’t think anymore.”
“When have you ever?”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Dylan stood up and stretched his back.
“Shithead,” Jared muttered, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips.
They grabbed their jackets and made their way out. A soft breeze whirled, making Dylan slightly shiver. Autumn was definitely here. Luckily, the pub was within walking distance.
Side by side, they made their way in silence, each absorbed in their own phone.
Dylan wanted to ask, but he knew Jared would start talking whenever he was ready.
Even if they hadn’t explicitly said it, going to a pub after work in the middle of the week was a sure sign that a serious conversation was about to happen.
The owner nodded in greeting as they entered the pub.
Before they got a chance to take their jackets off, their usual order was already in front of them.
They were regulars, almost VIPs, and had been coming here most Fridays after work for happy hour.
It wasn’t a flashy place, quite the opposite, with dirty floors and out-of-order bathrooms most of the time, but they had a great selection of craft beers.
“Paul cheated on me,” Jared said as soon as they sat at a table.
Dylan felt the air being knocked out of him. That came out of fucking nowhere. Last he knew, they were happy.
“What?”
“What you heard.” Jared took a long swig of beer as if they were talking about the weather.
“I…” I don’t know what to say. Something clicked in Dylan’s head. “Is that who was blowing up your phone all day?”
“Yeah.” Jared huffed and stared down at his pint, swirling the amber liquid.
“What does he want?” Dylan asked.
He wasn’t one to judge or meddle in anyone’s relationships, not even his closest friends.
But he was mad. Despite what they had done, things had stopped before they went too far.
While Jared had maintained his self-control, Dylan hated Paul’s lack of it.
He hated his traitorous cock and his entire existence for making Jared, the most cheerful person Dylan had ever met, so broken.
“To talk.”
Frowning, Dylan gaped a couple of times before he spoke again. “You haven’t talked yet?”
“On the phone, mostly.”
“Hmm…” His eyebrows knitted together. Kids these days are so damn weird.
“I've been staying at a hotel since I caught him.”
“You what? You can’t be serious.”
“Well, I am.” Jared shrugged, as if that was the most normal thing. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing when I came home. I barely remember shit, except for the way my heart was thumping. It felt like I was out of my body as I stared at him riding one of our roommates on the sofa.”
Ouch.
Jared and Paul shared a house with a friend of theirs and two doctorate students. But the way Jared’s jaw was clenched gave Dylan the impression he had been double betrayed.
“So I just walked away with the clothes on my back.”
“Just like that?” Dylan was sure he looked like a loon with his eyes wide open and mouth agape. “And you haven’t talked since?”
“Oh, no. We did the next day. But there was not much he could say to fix it. He’s blatantly cheated on me. With someone I thought was a friend.”
“And he’s not taking no for an answer, by the looks of it,” Dylan noted.
Jared simply nodded. “I packed everything I could that day, but I still have so much stuff there…” His hands tightened around his glass. “Haven’t seen him since. Just heard him crying, begging, and then angry shouting through the phone, voice notes, and texts.”
“That’s called manipulation,” Dylan said, blankly staring at the TV through the mirror as he tried to give Jared some space. “You better block him and ignore his pettiness.”
“Yeah. Just did. And I hope he doesn’t go psycho and get a new number to start it all over again.”
“You think he’d do that?”
Jared twisted his mouth. “Nah... I don’t think Paul would reach that level of crazy. Though I never thought he’d cheat either.”
Dylan felt useless. He didn’t know what to say to ease the pain. Although happily ever afters didn’t exist in his world, he knew how much Jared loved Paul and that shit always sucked, no matter the circumstances.
However, there was one thing he could definitely do to lighten the pressure, and probably the loneliness too.
“You should move in with me.”
“What?”
“I have a spare room you could take.”
Jared didn’t answer at first. Then he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “Dylan, you know—”
“Shut it.”
The idea hadn't occurred to Dylan before offering his spare room, that Jared may think he had ulterior motives since they had some unresolved issues. Living together would have them stuck, alone, in a confined space with little privacy. But nothing could be further from the truth.
Dylan could be many things—reckless, grumpy, intense—but he would never leave a friend hanging.
That was not his style. Besides, Jared was like a stray puppy.
The man was from a city five hours away, and clearly didn’t feel comfortable asking the few colleagues he’d gotten to know if he could stay with them.
Dylan couldn’t just look the other way and ignore him.
“Even if it’s a cheap hotel, judging by the way you’ve been surviving lately, you’re wasting your money.” Dylan smugly grinned. “I have a free room, and you need somewhere to put yourself back together while you search for a place of your own.”
Jared bit the inside of his cheek, a timid smile curling his lips. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“I may take you up on your offer then. It’d be nice to eat homemade meals again and not have to question the cleanliness of the linens I sleep in. Problem is, I already paid for the whole month. And it’s non-refundable.”
“Why?”
“It was the only way I could get a discount and still have money to live until the end of the month.”
“Okay…” Dylan let out a tired huff. “We’ll do it then. Yeah?”
“Sounds good to me.” A brighter smile illuminated Jared’s face. “Thank you.”
“Shush.” He waved dismissively. “Buy me another beer and we’re even.”
“Done.”
It was supposedly morning, but was so dark outside you would never know.
However, despite how little of a dawn-breaker he was, Dylan woke up earlier than usual.
Half-asleep, he zombied into his kitchen, frowning when the brightness of the light burned his retinas. If it was up to him, he’d probably still be in bed. His usual MO was opening his eyes ten minutes before leaving for work, brushing his teeth, and throwing some chickpeas and tuna in a lunch box.