Chapter 13 #2
Whatever mix of emotions Desmond felt as he stared back at Javier, and there were at least a dozen in there, it was clear he could sense at least a little of what Javier was feeling and he didn’t agree.
“What do you need from me?” he asked, as serious as ever.
“Do you need money? Because I have plenty of that.”
It would have been kinder if Desmond had slapped him.
“No, I do not need your money,” Javier said, raising his voice and glaring at Desmond. “What kind of leech do you think I am?”
“You’re not a leech for asking for a small loan,” Desmond insisted, which only sent Javier’s temper soaring. “And you wouldn’t be the first friend I helped out of a tight spot.”
“What, like Matthew?” Javier threw at him.
Desmond jerked back, his eyes going wide. “I did not mean to imply that you’re anything like Matthew.”
“Good, because I’m not,” he insisted, fighting against the hurt that welled up in him. “I don’t need rescuing, and I’m not going to take advantage of you. I’m not in this for your money.”
“I never said you were,” Desmond said, raising his voice as well. “I’m simply trying to help because I care about you.”
“Then help me by letting me help myself,” Javier said, bristling with offence that he didn’t even have a name for. He knew Desmond was just trying to be kind, just trying to take care of someone he liked, but it rankled all the same.
“I’m not saying you can’t help yourself.” Desmond pinched his eyes closed, like he was fighting to hold onto his temper. “But pride is one thing and collaboration is another.”
“So you want to collaborate now?” Javier knew full well he was about to get himself into trouble when he could have pulled back and dealt with the whole thing rationally, but it was like the stars had suddenly aligned wrong.
“Do you think I’m incapable of running my own business?
That I’m just some airhead model with a pretty face and nothing to back it up with, and a has-been at that? Are you only with me because I’m hot?”
Just like that, the messy core of everything Javier had been working and fighting for since his runway days came spilling out all over the place.
Because that’s what it was all about, really, wasn’t it?
Proving to the world he’d come from that he was worth more than his aging looks? Proving it to himself?
“I never said you aren’t capable,” Desmond fired back, clearly at the end of his patience and baffled about Javier’s outburst. “And I’d thank you for not putting words in my mouth. But clearly something has gone wrong, and I care about you enough to want to help you fix it.”
“Nothing’s wrong with me, honey,” he said acidly, taking a step back and turning to go.
He needed to get away from Desmond and their argument.
They were supposed to be the perfect couple, the dream lovers who only brought good things to each other’s lives and who never let the other down.
They were supposed to be each other’s respite from the shit of the world
It killed him to think that his shortcomings were bringing Desmond down.
Before he could finish his turn, his foot slid in the muck.
Javier wasn’t particularly well-balanced to begin with, and with a short shout and windmilling arms, he teetered to the side and lost his footing entirely, falling into the shallows at the edge of the lake with a squelchy splash and a loud, “Fuck!”
A family nearby with kids old enough to know what that word was stopped in their tracks and gaped. The oldest boy shouted, “Mum! He’s not allowed to say that!” and pointed.
It would have been funny if Javier wasn’t suddenly covered in rank-smelling mud and duck feces.
“Javier,” Desmond gasped and lunged forward to grab Javier’s arm, stopping him from sliding deeper into the lake as he flailed to find his way out. “Are you alright?”
Javier was not alright in any way. He was covered in stinking filth, his favorite trousers were probably ruined, and he was afraid to open his mouth in case any of the muck that had splashed on his face made its way inside.
“God, here.” Desmond slipped and slid as he trudged into the muddy water enough to loop his hands under Javier’s arms to pull him up.
They struggled a bit, and by the time they’d gained their footing and sloshed to the bank, Javier was laughing despite himself.
Not because the situation was particularly funny, although it was, but because it was just so fucking typical of the way everything had been going for him of late. Bitter laughter was still laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Javier barked, spitting to get the foul-tasting lake water away from his mouth. “This isn’t what you had in mind when you suggested we go out today.”
“No, it’s not,” Desmond said, cautious humor in his tone and sparkling in his eyes, like he wanted everything to be okay, but he wasn’t certain if it actually was.
“None of this would have happened if we had stayed home in our little bubble,” Javier pointed out as they dragged themselves over to one of the nearby benches and flopped onto it.
Desmond’s hint of mirth vanished, and for a second, he looked downright depressed. And he wasn’t the one covered in lake sludge.
It was a stroke of luck that the mum in one of the family groups that had seen him take his spill into the lake had a package of wipes with her.
She kindly offered them, and although it was the most inadequate bath Javier had ever taken, and the pseudo-lavender scent of the wipes did not in any way go together with the stench of the lake, it was enough to make Javier feel barely human.
“You do realize this is proof,” Desmond said, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of Javier’s gross body as he spread out to maybe dry a bit in the sun.
“What are you talking about? Proof of what?” Javier asked, balling the damp and muddy wipes in his hand for something to do.
“That I’m not with you only because of your looks,” Desmond said, the teasing spark back in his eyes.
Javier managed the barest hint of a smile. “No, you’re not,” he conceded with a nod.
It was true. He’d looked ridiculous when the two of them met. Honestly, it was nice to know Desmond liked him for who he was, not what he looked like.
Not just nice, it was everything. What he had with Desmond was everything he wanted.
Which was why it had to be protected so staunchly.
They sat like that for a few silent moments, just watching each other and the garden around them. They received more than a few odd looks, too.
Finally, when Javier was starting to really mind the soggy feeling of his pants, Desmond blew out a breath and said, “I’m sorry I offered you money. I won’t do it again. I can see it’s a sore spot for you.”
Javier smiled weakly. “Thanks, babydoll. And I won’t pester you with my problems and ruin our weekends together again.”
“That’s not what I—” Desmond stopped himself, his brow furrowing. Javier was half-convinced he would start up their argument all over again, but he shook his head, brushed a leaf of wet grass off his trousers, sighed, then said, “Alright.”
It was such a relief to know they were at peace again.
At the same time, Javier wanted to kick something. It was already too late. Without even trying, they’d burst their bubble, and he didn’t know what came next.