Chapter 1 The Comedown #2
They considered it. “Fitting.” Augustine walked to the window and stood in the glow. A wistful ache settled in their chest as they listened to their friend’s tune. They wanted to linger in that moment a while longer, but like the light, it would surely fade.
“I like that part,” they said, returning to the bench. “The shift is abrupt, but you could emphasize it by sustaining the last note.”
“Show me what you mean,” Titan said, scooting over.
It took a few tries, but Augustine reshaped the phrase. The note elongated before the transition.
“It sounds…hesitant,” Titan said.
“Is that bad?”
“It’s believable.” He tried the timing himself.
Satisfied, Augustine turned to leave and let Titan complete his song. They stalled in the doorway, listening to the time shift once more. When it came, just as they’d practiced, Titan’s eyes drifted from the piano to Augustine.
“It does sound better your way.”
* * * *
Chapter 3: Eventide’s Zenith
“Did something happen to you?”
Augustine’s sudden question cut through the silence of the car ride. It was nearly midnight; a time you can ask questions like that.
“What makes you ask?” Titan said.
“You flinch when I touch you. Like if my hand brushes yours, you pull away.”
“Do I?”
“You do.”
“I didn’t notice.”
Titan hated conversations like this, ones that felt like a demand to explain himself.
He wanted to crawl out of his skin. A thought flickered through his mind; he could open the door and just roll out of the car.
He decided against it. It would probably kill them both.
He gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the white dashes of the road, clinging to the pattern to avoid Augustine’s gaze. He wasn’t ready for this.
“I’m trying to figure you out, but you’re so…
reticent. I feel close to you but also like you’re worlds away,” Augustine said.
“We’ve been together for what, six months?
And I know we haven’t called this anything, but I think of you as, like, I don’t know, my best friend or maybe something else. Sorry if that sounds stupid.”
Something else. The precipice of change threatened to unravel everything that had finally become familiar.
“It doesn’t. And nothing happened.” There was much more Titan wanted to say, but his mind was a haze of incoherent thoughts, like the dense fog on the road ahead.
Augustine sighed. The silence settling between them stretched, growing heavier, thicker—until the air itself felt like it was pressing down on them both.
Titan knew he’d have to speak eventually, but he held out as long as he could.
When he couldn’t bear the pressure in his chest any longer, the first honest words tumbled out.
“I’m just…afraid,” he said.
Augustine paused before turning confessional.
“I’m scared too. But I also have other feelings.
Like we could be something? I mean, when we go out, or when we’re with the band, I think everyone already sees us as a pair.
We’re a team, and that just naturally happened over time.
I can’t even imagine us apart anymore.” They ran a hand through their hair before continuing.
“I just—dammit. It’s hard to do this. Even now, you feel so far away. ”
Since the funeral, breathing had become a learned behavior, something Titan had to remind himself to do.
He’d notice the world spinning; it wasn’t until the dizziness set in that he’d realize he was holding his breath.
An essential function that seemed to work automatically for everyone.
In front of Augustine, though, he was acutely aware of his every ragged inhale and forced exhale.
“I have feelings for you. It’s not that I don’t care. I’m just not very good at affection.” Titan traced the steering wheel as if it held the words he was searching for. He was thankful that Augustine couldn’t see his face in the darkness.
“Can I ask you something? Personal?” Augustine said.
“Yes,” Titan said, bracing for what might be coming next. He already felt so exposed.
“Are you asexual? It’s okay if you are.”
Asexual was a label that Titan had avoided since he discovered it, believing it would be an admission that he was incapable of love. They never talked about it, but Titan always suspected that Eve knew. He was closer to her than anyone else in the band, and now she was gone.
“I don’t know if that’s the right way to describe me.
I want closeness, but when it comes to being physical, it’s like my body doesn’t cooperate.
So, maybe partly.” Saying it out loud felt like defeat.
Titan was beside himself trying to figure out what to say or do next to fix his mistake.
But he was the mistake. He was broken, and he wished desperately that he could be like everyone else.
“It’s okay to not want to be touched. There are other ways to be intimate with a person,” Augustine affirmed. “We don’t hug or hold hands or anything like that now, and yet I feel deeply for you.”
Something in that declaration shattered Titan. He didn’t deserve Augustine. He couldn’t give them what they needed. He felt ashamed for leading them on, for making a promise he couldn’t deliver.
“We don’t have to do any of that to be together. I just want you. Whatever that looks like…Does that sound okay?” Augustine asked.
Titan wanted that more than anything. “I want you,” he said, feeling his throat tighten.
“I’m so sorry I’m like this. You deserve someone who can be what you need,” he choked out.
The rhythm he forced himself to keep earlier was completely gone now.
Hitched breaths came too fast. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus on driving.
Even with panic creeping in, he was careful to find the shoulder, pull over and kill the engine.
There was nowhere to hide now, nothing to keep his walls up.
Titan pressed his forehead against the wheel as the tears came.
It was humiliating, and yet, impossible to stop.
A small sound, barely audible, escaped Augustine at the sight.
“Titan, you have nothing to apologize for. It’s this world that owes you an apology,” they explained.
“And you know what sucks? We have this big societal push for pride, inclusivity, love is love. But sometimes I swear, what they really mean is sex is sex.”
Titan was surprised to hear those words—like permission to stop trying to be who he wasn’t.
He didn’t set out seeking validation, but the kind ramblings of Augustine made him feel seen in ways he never imagined possible.
He wanted Augustine to keep talking while he pulled himself together, dragging in shaky breaths, commanding his heart to slow.
“Sorry to rant, I just wish the way things are didn’t cause you to feel inadequate. I can’t even imagine—with all the invalidating stuff people say about Aces. It’s just ignorance.”
Titan almost laughed through his tears at that last comment.
“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I know I can be…intense,” Augustine said.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just—you’re the first person who has said these things to me.
I’ve never felt so…understood.” He exhaled, then continued.
“I thought you would think of me differently if you knew. All my life, I felt that if I just tried harder, I could learn to want what everyone else wants. And I hate myself for not being able to. But, God—Augustine. You make me feel like I don’t have to apologize for existing.
” Titan’s sincerity was illuminated by the headlights of a passing truck.
He turned his face, waiting for it to go by.
“I know it’s hard for you to talk about this stuff, so thank you for letting me in. I just wanted you to know that I want to try if you do,” Augustine said. “We can take things slow. I can wait.”
Titan managed a half smile, even though his hands still trembled.
He sat back, eyes searching for Augustine’s in the dark.
The distance between them seemed less intimidating somehow.
From this new perspective, Titan began to see possibility take shape alongside ache.
Augustine had made room for him to feel without judgement, had taken him as he was without needing him to be different.
They’d seen him at his worst and stayed anyway.
If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.
The thought was almost unbearable in its gentleness.
Titan yearned with every fragile part of himself, to love them back in kind—to learn to show them that same tenderness.
“I want to try. Because…I didn’t think I was able to feel this way. The way I feel for you. Not for anyone. I didn’t think I had it in me.”
* * * *
Chapter 4: Overlapping Waves
Titan hadn’t meant to walk in on Augustine changing. He was only passing by and happened to glance through the doorway. For a moment, he lingered, realizing it was the first time he had ever seen them without a shirt. Then Augustine turned, catching him in the act.
There was nowhere for Titan to hide.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” he apologized, hot shame spreading across his face.
“Titan, it’s okay,” Augustine assured. They stood shirtless in the bedroom, chest completely exposed.