Chapter 15

June 1973, somewhere in Missouri

Bill was barely aware that he'd gotten off Bobby's lap, their confessions in the grass barely more than a hazy memory, now.

They were walking again, and their path was taking them uphill once more, leaving behind them the lush green of the valley, making it hard to believe it had existed in the first place.

He felt as if he'd spent a good hour in a tumble-dryer. Spun and squeezed and torn until he couldn't remember which side was up, or what had inhabited him before.

The world around him seemed more colorful, suddenly. Brighter, with a new layer of pigments. It felt as if Bobby himself had come to paint over it with his words, and a palette with several shades of hope.

His feet still hurt, but he could barely feel them anymore. The ground seemed to welcome his steps now, and instead of the impact traveling up his legs, the earth rejecting his very presence, now the shallow sound of his heels hitting the dirt was absorbed by the soil.

They hadn't said much more, after their heart to heart. And Bill's hand still tingled with the memory of Bobby's touch.

It turned out, as he'd suspected, that they still had a long way to walk until they were back to Bobby's car. Enough time for Bill to ponder how little he deserved the kindness, the half whispered forgiveness that Bobby was showing him.

Bill had done much harm in his life, and the list of victims was long. But this man was at the top of it, and had he wanted, he could have aired his grievances for a long time before Bill even considered interrupting.

How idiotic of him to think he could ask a second chance of the other man. He didn't have more to offer than he had before.

But – there it was – as they went up a slippery slope, rocks sliding under his feet, a gentle hand on his lower back. He hid the sob that threatened to pour out again with a cough, and hoped his heaving breaths could be pinned on the fact that he was so out of shape a four hour walk might just be what ended him. And he didn't even smoke.

They stopped again at the top of a ridge, and Bobby drew him in with a hand around his shoulder to show him the scenery. An unnecessary, delightful gesture. He didn't really see any of the landscape before them. He was too busy rediscovering that of Bobby's hands.

What felt like days later, they were walking by the edge of a lake, when the other man stopped them.

"Shit."

Bill turned to him, panicking already. Had he stepped on a snake, a scorpion? Was he going to have to carry Bobby's unconscious body back to the car and pray that he was still alive by the time they could make it back to town?

But Bobby was simply frowning, palming at his pockets.

"Uh…"

"What?"

Bill's relief was short-lived.

"I can't find the car keys."

"What do you mean?"

Bobby, the nerve of him, laughed.

"What could I possibly mean? I can't find them."

Bill watched as his companion promptly dropped his backpack to the ground and began emptying it on the bank of the lake.

"Careful, if they're in there you'll drop them…" Bill trailed off just as they watched the key-chain jingle out of the bag, and hit the water with a plop, then disappear.

Bill crouched at the edge of the water, hands in his hair.

"Why did you do that?"

He didn't get an answer, and forgot to press for one since when he turned back, Bobby was casually stripping in front of him. Again.

"What are you doing?" he near-squealed, hiding his reddening cheeks in his palms.

"Well what does it look like? I'm getting them back," Bobby shrugged, looking far too smug as he unlaced his hiking boots and pulled them off.

Before he knew it, Bobby was lowering himself into the lake, and dipping under the surface.

"Fucking hell…"

Unable to stop himself, Bill leaned in closer to the edge. The water was murky, and too dark for him to discern much of what was happening. How Bobby could see enough to retrieve a little set of car keys, he had no idea. Hell, there could even be dangerous fish or worse in that lake. They weren't their unconscious teenage selves anymore, for fuck's sake.

Thankfully, he didn't have to dither for too long about whether he should start looking for a rope, or running to the nearest road for assistance. He was splashed in the face when Bobby emerged, shaking his head and sending droplets everywhere, grinning.

"Got'em."

Bill collapsed on his ass with a shaky sigh, legs wobbling.

"You fucking scared me."

"What, never seen a naiad?"

Bill raised his head again, taking in the shape of Bobby's shoulders peeking out of the water, the small waves he was making lapping at his clavicles. Bill swallowed. His mouth had no business feeling so dry when Bobby was so… wet.

"I don't think I have, actually."

Bobby pulled back away from the bank, swimming on the spot.

"It's not super deep, really. You might wanna join me."

Bill frowned at the contents of the backpack scattered around, and his watch.

"But… don't we still have quite a lot to walk?"

Bobby wiped the drops still falling over his forehead and smiled.

"Not that much. Besides, the car keys need to dry a bit before we can use them."

There was a logic flaw somewhere in what Bobby was saying. Firstly, it was so warm that surely by the time they'd reached the car, the keys would be as dry as they'd ever been.

Secondly… Bill's mind failed to remember that second argument when Bobby reached a large rock in the middle of the lake and hoisted himself up on it.

From where he was, Bill could still vaguely make out the outline of him through his now wet underwear, and he wasn't sure if he was lying to himself, but this felt like a temptation if he'd ever seen one.

He was unbuttoning his shirt before he even knew what he was doing. In the distance, Bobby was now reclining on the rock, back arched from the roundness of it, his arms crossed under his head. Damn him, he did actually look like some fairy creature. One that Bill would gladly slide against and keep warm with his own body.

He slid into the water without a trouble. It was pleasantly warm, kept so by the glaring sun that had followed them all day. He swam a few breaststrokes, avoiding dipping his head in the water at all costs, and stopped only when he could press both hands against the heated rock.

"So good of you to join me," Bobby joked from above.

Where he was, Bill could only see up to the other man's hip, and did his best to avoid staring at the shape of the bone there, and how enticing the line between his thigh and crotch looked, with light reflecting off the moisture there.

There was really no room for two on that rock, but when Bobby sat up and scooted to the side, Bill got the message. He grunted as he pushed himself out of the water, and shivered only once he was pressed from shoulder to thigh to Bobby, who sat now propped on his elbows.

He really was a sight, and one that Bill shouldn't be ogling so obviously. Although… There was something in the way that Bobby angled his body, one leg extended and the other folded with one foot on the rock's surface, that suggested perhaps, the other man didn't entirely mind.

Bill felt sixteen again. Looking, and wondering if his thoughts would be unwelcome, were Bobby able to read his mind.

He swallowed, and looked away at the water, finding the soft ripples here and there to be soothing. There must have been fish in that lake, though he dearly hoped there was nothing with sharp teeth or poisonous.

Just as he had that thought, something rustled past between grasses, on the bank to their right. Or… slithered, may have been the right term. Bobby scrambled back with a yelp, nearly falling off and back into the water.

"Fucking… shit," he hissed, and together they looked at where the distinct shape of a snake disappeared away into a dense bush.

Well… this was possibly worse than all the other animals they could have encountered. Bobby had gone ghostly white at his side, shaking hands hovering above his naked knees.

Bill slowly reached a hand out, trembling too, but for other reasons.

The first touch to Bobby's shoulder stung his fingertips, and the other man startled as well. But when his eyes settled on Bill, he seemed to relax a tad, chest still rising fast with panicked breaths.

"It's gone," Bill soothed, laying his palm more firmly at the base of Bobby's neck.

"It was so close," Bobby whispered, eyes wide with dread.

There was nothing for it.

Bill would have to get over himself, and press a half naked Bobby to his chest. He let his arm wrap around the other man's shoulders fully, and gently tugged him until Bobby's face was pressed against his clavicle and he felt his chaotic breathing there, blowing on his wet skin and making him shiver.

It was a new kind of torture to have him so close, and the irony that they were mirroring their earlier embrace, Bill now being the one having to utter soft reassurances, wasn't lost on him. Bobby's hair was brushing against his chin, and he smelled of pine shampoo, sweat and grass.

Bill held him until Bobby's breathing returned to a calmer, more regular rhythm. Until he stopped shaking his head every time Bill promised the snake wouldn't return.

Once Bobby sagged against him, limp and exhausted by the brutal appearance of his phobia in the middle of their peaceful moment, Bill allowed his hold on him to relax, and let his hand slide down Bobby's back, pulling away before it could come even close to the waistband of his underwear.

Bobby cleared his throat and straightened himself up next to Bill.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Bill muttered.

"This hasn't happened to me in… a long time. Not that it means anything," Bobby chuckled, but it sounded far more weary than amused, "just that I haven't seen one of those fuckers in a while."

Bill nodded with a half-smile. He recalled the few times this had happened in their youth. Two or three, not much more. The first time, he'd found Bobby hiding away in the showers, fully dressed and crouched in a corner. He'd barely been able to explain what had happened for an hour. Then he'd learned there was not much to do to help his friend but be there while the worst of it passed.

"Will you be okay swimming back?" he asked.

Bobby warily eyed the water.

"I think… would you mind going first? It's stupid but –"

"Of course. Now?"

Bobby nodded.

"Don't think I'll enjoy it much more from now on."

Bill felt the urge to rub his back once more, but there was nothing warranting it now. He'd need a better excuse, next time. Oh, who was he kidding. He'd have to be back at work tomorrow, and then what?

He slid off the rock less gracefully than he'd have liked, and made quick work of returning to their abandoned clothes. When he was sure the coast was clear, he motioned for Bobby to join him, and kept a careful eye on the water around him as the other man swam to meet him again.

They dressed again in silence, Bill wincing at the feeling of his clothes sticking to his skin so much. Hopefully, the air would still be warm enough to dry them before they got to the car.

Bobby seemed to have recovered from his earlier fright, and picked the car keys back up with a little smirk. Bill frowned and stared on, forgetting that he'd been in the process of lacing his shoes.

"Bobby?"

"Hmm?" the other man answered, distracted and smiling up at a tree.

"Did you…" Bill trailed off.

No, he was being stupid. Bobby couldn't possibly have… But the way the man raised his eyebrows in pretend innocence, failing to hide his little proud smile, fueled Bill's doubt.

"Did you drop the keys on purpose?"

Bobby grinned wider, and didn't correct him. He simply finished buttoning up his shorts and straightening his clothes. Bill gaped at him for a while, unable to wrap his head around the idea.

"But… why?"

Bobby cocked his head, still not looking at him. He had the same air as every comic's super-villain about to explain their master plan.

"I wanted to swim a bit, and I didn't think you'd have wanted to otherwise."

Bill scowled.

"That makes no sense. And what if you hadn't been able to get the keys back?"

Bobby shrugged, and finally met his gaze.

"I know this lake. Swim here every time I go on that hike."

He then proceeded to put everything back into his bag, slipped it over his shoulders and asked:

"You ready to head back? We still have a bit to walk."

Bill stood up, shaking his head. If anything, he had more questions now, but fell into a pensive silence as they set on to finally make their way back to the car.

If Bobby had been so used to this hike, then… what was the point coming here in the first place for a photograph he still hadn't taken? And why make up such an elaborate excuse just for a dip in a lake, as if Bill would have stopped him?

His train of thought kept him busy for the rest of the walk, and mercifully, he didn't see the rest of the time pass until they came into view of the car. Only then did he realize just how sore he was, from his eyes still painfully throbbing since all the crying, to the soles of his feet, dreadfully unused to all this exercise.

Bobby casually went to drop their stuff in the trunk, and got into the driver's seat as if they'd just had a perfectly normal day.

Bill followed in slow-motion, advancing through molasses, and squinted at his companion once he joined him inside the car, only to see him run a hand through his hair, artfully pushing it back, and smiling:

"Well, that was nice, wasn't it?"

Nice?Bill wanted to shout. What part of today was… nice? Or just nice? He'd cried to hiccups and helped Bobby through a panic attack. Bobby pretended to lose the keys to the car, and never once took out his camera.

I have no idea what the fuck today was, but nice certainly isn't the word.

"Yeah, it was."

He propped his elbow up to look out the window as Bobby reversed the car and put them on their way back to St. Louis.

They got there as the sun was beginning to set, blinding them even through their sunglasses. As they moved closer and closer to the city, the knot in Bill's gut gradually tied itself back together.

He had no idea what the night held for him. Or… what tomorrow held for them. And he was terrified to ask.

Hannah greeted them at the door, bouncing Edgar in her arms and scowling.

"That was a fucking long hike," she snarked at Bobby who haughtily ignored her as he went past her and inside.

Bill stopped in front of her, hoping he was at least looking contrite enough for the circumstances.

"We lost the car keys."

Hannah stared on for a few seconds, then her expression mellowed and she asked with half a smirk:

"Is that what they call it these days?"

Bill felt the blood drain from his face and, honestly, his whole body. He couldn't even feel his fingers when Hannah squeezed them before sliding him a hushed:

"Be careful with him, please?"

And on that, she left. Bill leaned against the nearest wall, feeling that the blood returning to its rightful place was as unpleasant a sensation as it leaving in the first place.

"Bill, you coming?"

He rubbed a hand over his face, hoping to wipe his shock and fear away, then followed inside and closed the door.

Unsurprisingly, Bobby was already holding Poppy, the cat's eyes closed in delight as his owner rubbed his forehead. But when Bill looked into Bobby's eyes, he saw at last all the questions that had been running inside his own mind for the better part of the day.

He inhaled, pushing the air past his tight throat, and let out:

"I have to go home."

Bobby sighed and nodded.

"I know."

And that didn't solve anything, did it? Bobby's looks on that rock, the devastating tenderness when he'd held him as he shook through years of unspent grief.

"So…"

"Come back."

Bill stilled with his mouth open, having forgotten what he even wanted to say.

"What?"

Bobby slowly lowered his cat to the ground and took two steps closer towards Bill, wringing his hands.

"Come back again. Please."

Bill looked away to the living room where he'd spent hours reading on the couch, watching Bobby paint out the corner of his eye.

"I'd love to, but…"

Bobby huffed, and turned away.

"I know. It's okay."

Before he knew it, Bill had reached a hand out and grabbed the back of Bobby's shirt.

"No! That's not… I want to but… I can't be away from home that often, or for that long…"

Bobby shrugged his words off and pivoted on the spot until he could rake a serious gaze over Bill's face, searching.

"So what then?"

"You could…"

There was a clock ticking in the background, the noise deafening to Bill's ears as he looked for his words.

"You could come. To Memphis."

Bobby's expression softened and his lips pursed into a pout that was far too kissable.

"So, like you wanted me to the first time."

Bill frowned.

"At the conference," Bobby cleared up.

"Oh. Well… yes, I guess. Although… It's a little different now, isn't it? I hope?" Bill clung to the tendrils of that feeling as hard as he could, imagining himself back in the lake and sinking with only Bobby able to pull him out.

"What's different, Bill?"

"You really want to make me say it?"

"Yes Bill, I know what's different and I just want to make sure you do, too."

It was ridiculous how much Bobby sounded like his fifteen year-old self, then, when they got stuck in stupid arguments, most of the time about books.

"What's different," Bill forced out, "is that you seem to want me more than last time. Or to hate me a little less, I'm not sure. What's different for me is that I definitely want you more, but I'm willing to take my time. Because I'm still terrified of what this means for my life, and because I want to know what you want, too."

Bobby's expression remained unchanged for an eternity, before his mouth spread into a smile.

"Alright. I'll visit you."

Bill's chest was heaving with the effort it had taken him to get those words out, and Bobby was just going to…

"Are you gonna answer anything I just said?" he asked, voice all high with frustration and desire.

Bobby took slow steps towards him, with a confidence Bill couldn't ever remember seeing him displaying. His breath faltered again when Bobby lifted a hand towards him and rubbed his thumb across his cheek in one slow, amorous slide.

"No," he said, and moved away.

Bill couldn't control the soft, offended chuckle that poured out of him then.

"Do you want to shower before you leave?" Bobby asked, casual as anything.

Bill took a look down at the state of himself. His skin was still fairly sticky with lake water, and he knew he couldn't have smelled wonderful. But the idea of using Bobby's soap was not something he felt strong enough to do, right now.

"I think I should go sooner rather than later… If I show up late tomorrow, my secretary is gonna have my ass."

Bobby looked at him over his shoulder then, and waggled his eyebrows at him.

"Oh not like that," Bill laughed, and it felt good, this lightness between them, despite all that had transpired during the day, and what they needed to sort out still.

He realized then, that he couldn't remember, before Bobby, when the last time he'd laughed had been.

Bill's heart was still racing at the memory of that touch, even as he loaded his suitcase in the trunk. He could feel Bobby's gaze on the back of his neck, and none of that was helping him cool down, despite the night setting around them.

He turned around after closing the trunk and leaned against it. If he looked cool and aloof – though that had never happened to him in his life – that was only an added bonus, but he was doing it to steady himself at the sight of Bobby in a soft t-shirt, standing on his doorstep.

"Promise you'll call, then?"

Bill nodded. There was nothing he wanted to do more than hear the other man's voice as soon as he got home.

"Alright," Bobby whispered into the darkness. The streetlights were illuminating only half of his face, turning it hard to make out his expression. "Off you go, then. Please be safe."

Bill squeezed his hands on the body of the car and inhaled slowly.

"I promise," and he hoped Bobby would know he was speaking for both his requests.

He turned away before his resolve dwindled, worried that he might do something stupid – run to Bobby, slam him against his door and kiss him. Out in the open. Something he'd have to ponder again in the privacy of his own ‘home', if it could be called one.

He knew he couldn't subject Bobby to the same prevarication and stealth he had last time.

But there was the big issue that he still didn't feel brave about being… himself.

About letting others know.

Not when there would be disapproving stares from the neighbors, not when some of them had guns, not when… not when the law still said it was a crime.

He got lost to that thought for the rest of the drive, barely seeing the outskirts of Memphis scrolling past him until he was parked in front of his building. From inside the car, he could see the lights on in Mrs Heigel's apartment, and his stomach filled with dread at the idea of having to knock on her door, pick up the dog, and go back to his old life.

He wasn't sure he could bear it.

This half-living, going to work, making diagnoses, prescriptions, barely ever a surgery these days, getting snide remarks from his secretary about his state of clothing or celibacy, and then…

Back home, rinse, repeat. The very thought made him gag.

Then he remembered the phone upstairs, the white cord he could twirl around his fingers to settle his nerves as he listened to the dial tone. And some long miles away, Bobby, waiting to hear that he'd gotten home safe.

He rushed upstairs, arbitrarily deciding that Mrs Heigel wouldn't mind keeping the dog for one more night. He dialed with trembling fingers, having abandoned his suitcase in the entrance, his shoes still on.

"Hello?"

Bobby didn't sound tired. It was nearing on eleven in the evening, and they'd just had the most exhausting day Bill could remember since his last divorce was pronounced.

But the other man's voice wasn't that of someone who'd changed into pajamas and was ready for bed. No, he sounded like he'd waited by the phone, stayed up, maybe painting, and Bill pictured it again. What tonight could have been like, had their paths not veered so far away from each other.

"It's me. Uh, Bill, I mean."

"Oh. You're home okay, then?"

"Hmm. Yes. Are you…" he stopped, unsure what he wanted to ask.

"Am I?"

Bill frowned at himself. Why was he so useless all the time?

"Are you ready for bed?"

The sound of Bobby's chuckled laughter right in his ear felt about as stirring as his thumb on Bill's cheek had, earlier.

"Yes, as ready as I'll ever be. Brushed my teeth, cleaned my face. Showered the stink of that lake off, too."

Bill wrinkled his nose, smelling the vague waft of mud still emanating from himself.

"Uh, yes, I still need to do that."

"I'll leave you to it and go to sleep then," Bobby said, but it wasn't a dismissal, and sounded far too soft for Bill's poor old heart. "Thank you for calling, Bill. And er… let's call again, yeah? And make plans?"

Bill clutched the receiver hard enough to make his knuckles ache.

"Yeah. I'll call again."

"Good. Good night."

"Good night."

He took his time showering, and was pink all over when he left the cubicle, but he knew that along with the sweat and grime, something else had been washed off him, today.

When he got into bed, he imagined he was tucked in in Bobby's spare room, summoned the scent of his laundry, and was out like a light.