23. Inconceivable!
Inconceivable!
The Immersive Princess Bride event was a transformative experience in university.
Caleb noticed a sticker on Avery’s shoe, Theo met Jordan, and Jason wore the pink feathered boa as they ordered their early-morning poutine.
That evening brought a bunch of scared, excited first-years together into a situation where everyone was ridiculous, so no one was ridiculous.
And Dae had missed it. He’d been alone in his room, too shy to interact.
So, when Theo saw the poster for The Princess Bride Live, he didn’t relent until Dae agreed to go.
Caleb and Avery were on the road with their latest gig, so Theo, Dae, Jason, Jordan, and Becks dressed up to re-live the experience.
Theo had always regretted not dressing up during frosh, so this time, he donned a black outfit and mask, which, with his wavy dark blonde hair, actually made him look like Wesley.
Jason went as Prince Humperdink, Jordan recreated her Fezzik costume, and Becks, whom Theo was actively trying not to detest with his entire soul, pulled off a pretty solid Princess Buttercup.
Jordan assessed Dae with an appraising look. “Your Inigo Montoya is spot-on, but you can’t show up without a moustache. You’ll be laughed out of the theatre.”
He had thrown himself into recreating the iconic look, complete with a dollar store curly mullet wig and faux-leather vest, but Jordan was right; the moustache was essential. Theo took his arm and led him into the bathroom.
“Here.” He tapped the counter and Dae obeyed, leaning against it and bending forwards to give Theo full access to his face. It was almost infuriating how smooth and soft his skin was. Not even the harsh light bouncing off the white tiles could make him look like any less of a dreamboat.
Theo took some eyeliner from Jordan’s makeup bag to draw on Dae’s upper lip. His mouth was such an alluring shape, lips curved and plump, pink and—
“Theo?”
“What?” Shit. “Almost done.”
Fucking focus. He looked between Dae and a picture of Inigo on his phone, perfecting the shape of the moustache, trying to make it look bushy, and refusing to get distracted by the way the pencil pulled on Dae’s upper lip, forcing his mouth open.
“There. Now let’s hear it.”
“Hello,” Dae said in a quiet, barely-there Spanish accent, “my name is—”
“We’re going to be late!” So now Jordan cared about tardiness.
The theatre was close enough to walk, giving them ample opportunity to wave at giggling, gawking strangers. And when they arrived, the lobby was filled with characters from the movie, their costumes ranging from silly to intricately accurate.
The building had that old-theatre smell: musty with a hint of stale perfume, like the walls had absorbed a century of patrons showing off their wealth. A chandelier hung from the ceiling in the lobby, adorned with electric candles that periodically blinked out.
They climbed the faded carpeted stairs to the balcony, where they sat in creaky, uncomfortable seats.
Theo’s favourite part of live theatre was always when the house lights went down, and the crowd knew to shut the hell up.
The thing about this night, though, was that the crowd never shut up for long.
They weren’t meant to. People began yelling things at the stage, making everyone laugh and causing the actors to mug to the audience.
Dae relaxed more as the show went on and even yelled when Wesley was taken to the Pit of Despair.
After the show, they filed into the lobby where servers in costumes made rounds with overpriced drinks.
The actor who played Wesley complimented Theo’s costume and got the crowd to vote on who wore it better.
Wesley won, obviously. Being ridiculously sexy in a mask was his job, whereas it was simply a pastime of Theo’s.
He was surprised when the actor asked for his number and was about to give it to him when he noticed Dae surrounded by a group of women.
“Sorry, I have to…” He wandered away from Wesley and inserted himself in the circle.
“Uh oh!” One of the women laughed way too loudly. “He’s come to sword fight! Get in here!” She took his arm and pulled him in for a picture, and Dae’s hand settled on his hip. Which was normal. Of course.
It went on for a while. One woman in particular, who had clearly had too much to drink, kept wrapping her arms around Dae, putting her head on his shoulder and kissing his cheek, leaving her mark in bright red lipstick.
“Say the thing again!”
“Oh, um, you killed my—”
“We’re going to a club on King street,” she slurred, her low voice an attempt at sultry. “Come with us.”
He gently unlatched her arms. “I, ah…”
“We’re not exactly dressed for a club,” Theo jumped in. He couldn’t tell if Dae liked her or not, but she was drunk, and he knew that wouldn’t be how he would want to get to know her. “Give me your number! We can all hang out next weekend.”
A group thing. Classic.
It took her three tries to put her number in Theo’s phone, then she left some sloppy lipstick on his cheek too. The only sober woman of the bunch rounded them up with a frazzled apology to the guys before shooing the group away.
Theo never found Wesley again, but he wasn’t trying very hard. Jason left with a woman dressed as Buttercup, and Jordan and Becks disappeared.
“Ugh. Couples.” Theo clicked his tongue and gave up looking for them. “Ready to go?”
Dae nodded. “If you are.”
The evening had gotten considerably colder, and the wind cut through his thin black clothing, which had been good for the costume, but not exactly practical.
Dae hooked his hand around Theo’s elbow and led him to the street, waving for a cab.
“I don’t mind walking,” Theo said through chattering teeth.
Dae shook his head and opened the door for him.
The driver seemed annoyed to go such a short distance, but they gave him a huge tip to make up for it.
Each step up the four flights echoed through the stairwell, making Theo extra aware of how quiet Dae was being.
He’d never yearned for Stairway Bill before, but at least his advances would give them something to react to.
As soon as they got into the apartment, Dae went to the kitchen and poured himself some water, then downed it in a single go.
“Everything okay?”
He filled the glass again. “Yeah, of course. It was fun.”
“It wasn’t too much?”
“No, Theo, it wasn’t too much.” Dae walked past him, unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to shower. Is there anything special I need to do to take off the makeup?”
“Jordan brought wipes.”
He nodded and went into the bathroom. Theo wiggled out of his outfit, tossing it on his bed before Dae’s voice softly floated from the living room. “Theo?”
“Um, one sec!” He grabbed one of Dae’s sweaters he’d borrowed and had yet to return, and threw it on over his boxers.
It smelled like cooking spices, woodsy deodorant, and Dae, and Theo took a sneaky whiff before going back into the main room.
Dae stood, hand on the bathroom doorframe, staring at the floor, still fully clothed, though his mullet wig and make-shift moustache were gone.
“Okay. I’m going to say something, and I need you to not take it the wrong way. ”
Shit. “I knew it. I knew I pushed you. I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything like this again.”
“No, that’s the opposite of—” Dae looked up and his eyes slid over him, his ears lighting up like a siren. “Whoa.”
Theo fiddled with the zipper of the hoodie. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” He blinked, shaking his head. “Yeah, of course. I, um, what was I saying?”
So damn cute. “You tell me.”
Dae sighed a half-laugh and crossed the room to stand before him. “I liked tonight. It’s not the type of thing I would normally do, but I’m glad I went.” He paused, wincing like he didn’t want to say what was coming next but knew he had to. “The only problem was that you…”
It was Theo. He was the problem. As Dae considered his next words, Theo pictured the rest of his life as a hermit, staying in, never doing anything that would make him uncomfortable ever again.
“You babysat me.”
Oh, that again? “I don’t mind taking care of you, Dae, I promise.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I needed it back then, but I don’t now.”
Oh. Wait. What? That wasn’t where Theo had thought this was going.
“I worked on it in Korea, put myself out there, went out, held actual conversations all on my own.” He spread his arms in an aren't you proud kind of way.
And Theo was. He really was. It was amazing how much Dae had changed. But it also meant that Theo was no longer his bridge to the rest of the world. He should’ve seen that coming; Dae had lived in a different country for the past three years, after all. “That’s awesome, Dae.”
“I mean, it’s still hard, and I won’t always be able to do it, but…” He sucked his bottom lip, thinking. When had he started doing that? It was obscene. “I guess, give me a chance to prove that I can do it on my own, okay?”
“I promise I’ll try to shut up.”
Dae huffed. “You will never shut up for as long as you live, and I don’t want you to. Just pass me the mic from time to time.”
Theo nodded, this thoughts shifting.
“Not literally, though.”
“Of course not.”
“I mean it.” Dae pointed at Theo’s forehead. “I can see the gears turning, and I’m telling you right now, I will never participate in karaoke.”
He was right, of course. The instant he’d said the word ‘mic’ a plan formulated to throw those words back in his face. “I would never. Where’s the trust?”
“Theo.” He playfully poked him in the stomach, tickling, backing him up against Céline.
Theo tickled him back, and Dae honest-to-goodness giggled.
“You’re done for now.” His arms moved down Theo’s body until they were trapping him in some kind of expert inescapable hold.
The mischief radiating off him was intoxicating.
Well, that plus the four vodka sodas he’d had at the theatre.
“You started it!”
“So I should finish it.” Dae reached to pick him up or throw him over his shoulder or some other unthinkable act, but Theo’s earnest plea for him to stop made him pause.
Theo was hard. Rock fucking hard. The enormous sweater covered him for now, but if Dae held him—if he came any closer—there was no way he wouldn’t feel it.
“Theo?”
“Nothing!” A squeak. Nonsensical. He needed to get the hell out of there. Dae opened his mouth, concern lining his face, but before any words came out, his phone started to buzz. “Your phone.”
“Yeah, I…” Dae searched his face for another moment before taking it out of his pocket. “Min is at the midnight market to find something for Eomma’s birthday. She’ll probably want your input.”
He held the phone between them and swiped to open the text, but it was definitely not Min.
Morning light washed over a gorgeous man, his long black hair spread across a white pillow, the camera angled at his abs, below which was a dusting of hair leading to his hand, which he used to hold his long, smooth—
“Oh, shit!” Dae dropped the phone as Theo gasped.
Too many thoughts, too many feelings. None of which were helping his highly inappropriate erection. He needed to laugh this away. “I think congratulations are in order?”
Dae shook his head. “It’s not—I mean, it is, but…”
“You and he…?”
“Yeah. For a bit.”
Theo tried to keep his tone light, but it came out strangled. “Was this the page you took out of my book?”
Dae’s groan sounded like it pained him. “What can I do to make you forget you saw this?”
“Build a time machine?”
This time, he groaned Theo’s name, and it pained Theo. His cock was practically throbbing at the sound.
“I’m going to…” He pointed to his room and slowly backed away from Dae, taking a page out of his book and sliding his hands into the sweater pockets, pulling it down to cover himself. “You should respond. He put effort into those pictures. You think that kind of lighting just happens?”
“I’m not sexting with Joon, Theo. You can stay.”
Joon. A perfectly sexy name for a perfectly sexy man. Theo shook his head, his shoulder bouncing painfully off the doorframe. “Ow. Fuck. Have fun!”
Dae had a protest on his lips that was overpowered by the forceful closing of Theo’s door.
This couldn’t happen. Not again. Dae had just gotten back, and Theo was already having lewd thoughts about his lips and what they could do wrapped around his—
Stop it! He wanted to smack his dick for putting those thoughts in his head, but instead, he threw Dae’s sweater off, along with his underwear, and got into the shower before the water even began to warm up, hissing at the glacial drops, which did nothing to counteract the situation.
Just one more time. He’d stroke away the thoughts and the feelings that came with them just one more time. It was like a song that got stuck in your head; if you just listened to the whole thing, it went away. All he had to do was let the fantasy in.
He pressed his forehead to the shower wall as his hand sped up, his other hand dragging down his chest, imagining Dae was with him in the shower, imagining his hand was Dae’s, imagining his rough fingertips sliding over his nipple. “Fuck.”
He wanted to drop to his knees and take all of Dae into his mouth, wanted Dae’s hips to rock into him, wanted Dae’s hand tangled in his hair as he licked and sucked. He wanted to see him lose control and come while groaning his name, just as he’d done in the living room.
The pressure in his stomach exploded and he stroked himself through the pleasure, trying to clamp his jaw shut, but a whisper made it out anyway: “Dae.”
Dae’s face, his dimples, his smile. Theo wanted to see him panting and satisfied. But then his imagination turned Dae’s face into Nick’s—his smile, his satisfaction. Then it shifted to the look he’d given him at the door: disappointed and hurt. Broken.
Just like everyone Theo had ever been with. If they didn’t leave him first.
For a second, he’d almost forgotten what he’d done. Forgotten that he was trash. Forgotten that in no universe did someone like him deserve someone like Dae.