2, 4, 6, 8


Post S4 Fic
Justin in LA


******************

2 Weeks In

When he leaves you tell yourself you can stand anything, absolutely anything, for a few months. When you drop him off curbside and kiss him breathless the look in his eyes tells you he misses you already. That’s enough to make you believe that four, five, six months apart will do nothing to this. This bond you have. And it is a bond, isn’t it?

Every day for the first two weeks he calls you before he goes to bed. After the first four nights you notice the pattern and give up hope of getting any shuteye before 3am. He tells you about his day, what new thing he learned, which new celebrity he met, how much he misses you.

You miss him too, but it’s been two weeks and you’re not going to admit it yet. You figure in two months you can casually state that the loft is getting a little lonely without him.

4 Weeks In

About a month into his sabbatical he starts telling you more about how much he loves LA and less about how much he misses you. You pretend not to notice the change.

It’s only when the nightly phone calls start coming every other day and then every third that you really start to wonder if…

You tell yourself that he’s young and beautiful and brilliant and when you were his age you would have killed for an opportunity like this. There is no way you’ll even for one second stand in his way, not even a little. If you have to feign indifference until it kills you on the inside, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

6 Months In

When he left he told you that LA was temporary and necessary and he’d be there for ‘six months max’. And it isn’t that you took that literally, or that you’ve been crossing days off the calendar in the kitchen or that you plugged a countdown into your cell phone or that you check that calendar and that countdown with some regularity, but still. It’s been six months and one week to the day, and he tells you in a conversation that lasts six seconds, though it’s been one of only a handful in the last six weeks, that he’s ‘just not sure’ when he’ll be ‘getting back to Pittsburgh’.

And the crazy thing is you’ve almost gone to visit him more times than you would dare to reveal. And the crazier thing is he came to surprise you one weekend a few months ago but you happened to be in New York on businesses. The disconnect of him not knowing you were out of town and you not suspecting that he was going to come home made your stomach curl in on itself and quiver until you vomited in the pretty black toilet in your suite at the W in Union Square. You tell yourself, and Cynthia, that the crab cakes at lunch were bad. You refuse to admit that it has something to do with the fact there was a time, not long ago, when you would have known Justin was coming home before he even knew himself.


8 Months In

The day the calendar tells you he’s been gone for eight months you officially decide he is not coming home, or rather not coming back to Pittsburgh (as it is clearly no longer home to him). You throw the calendar in the trash (in the dumpster outside of the building so you can’t retrieve it later) and delete the countdown from your phone. You curse yourself for days for putting your life on hold for nothing.

It’s not that you’re angry with him, or even surprised. It’s that you hate yourself with every ounce of your being for actually falling in love. You realize if you’d never felt this for him the letting go would be so easy. If you’d never wanted him with you so badly, having him nowhere near you would be a cakewalk. If you didn’t know there was a person in the world that could make you feel…fuck it’s lesbionic…but safe and happy, you wouldn’t have to miss the way that feels.

**

He comes home in the middle of the night, in the middle of the week, about ten months after he left. You can’t be sure it’s been ten months because you stopped counting, but you know it’s been too long.

When he slips into bed beside you, skin cold and clammy and smelling like an airplane, you want to strangle him because all you want to do is cry with relief.

But you’ve never been one to cry, so you roll toward him and put your arms around his back and press your lips to his temple, “Welcome home.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your chest, “It’s good to be here.”

“I missed you,” he adds before falling asleep in your arms.

You sigh to yourself. He has no idea.

-end-

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