9. 9

"What's with you?" Brendan asked, exasperated but slightly disinterested, which was code for: I actually care about you, asshole, tell me why you're being an indecisive wanker over something as simple as a fucking logo design.

Chris threw his pen on the boardroom table, watched it roll over the designs spread everywhere, and heaved a sigh.

It'd been a week and Chris had texted multiple times and Joq had replied to those, but it had been clipped, with zero openings for more.

Chris ran an agitated hand through his hair and sighed again.

"Jesus, what happened?" Brendan asked.

Chris laughed, humourless. "Nothing, I just, I went on that date and then, you know, it all got fucked up. The usual."

Brendan chuckled.

"What?"

"Sorry to be the one to tell you this if you haven't figured it out yet, but there's nothing usual about you giving a shit about a date after the fact. I've never seen you with the same guy twice."

Chris winced. There was a reason for that and it wasn't the picky, one-night-stand, man-whore, fun-time reason everyone seemed to think it was.

"Yeah, well, I've been with this guy more than once and then I fucked it up, so," he shrugged. It was for the best—he kept telling himself that over and over because it was true. He'd always lost interest in the past—why would this time be any different?

"Fucked it up how?" Brendan asked.

"Are we doing this then?" Chris sat up and smiled wryly at him.

"Doing what?"

"Talking about our relationships and braiding each other's hair?"

Brendan laughed heartily. "Only if you want to, princess."

Chris smiled. He did want to.

He leaned forward, clasped his palms together. "I really like this guy, but I mustn't be showing it right or something. And I don't know if I can push for more because I've got a," how did he say this? "I've got this problem."

Brendan was looking at him like he was trying to figure out what he was on about. Chris could admit that was vague.

"Please don't tell me you have an erectile dysfunction," he said eventually.

Chris laughed, humourless, and looked away.

"No, not really," he blew out a breath. "It's not physical, I don't think."

He glanced at Brendan watching him back, his brow furrowed. "What's not physical?"

Jesus, he was going to have to spell it out.

"After I fuck a guy once, I lose all interest," he said matter of fact.

Brendan looked at him with surprise. "You really are an asshole."

Chris laughed, startled. "Thanks."

"No, I mean," he frowned. "I think I'm missing something. If you like this guy maybe don't do that."

"It's not conscious, I don't fucking do it deliberately. It's just, they repulse me, after."

"Jesus," Brendan said. "I don't know whether to laugh. Are you serious?"

"Yes," he replied evenly. "I'm not trying to be an asshole. It just happens, every time. After I just, you know, want them to go away."

"But you didn't with this guy?"

"Not yet," Chris replied heavily.

"But," Brendan paused and Chris could see his brain working. Finally, he said, "You're scared you will."

"Scared is too strong a word, but yes."

"But you really like him."

"Yes," he replied firmly and thought of Joq—his skin so warm and smooth under Chris' hands, hell, even the feel of his feet against Chris' stomach, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and his eyes shone with the light of the TV; the way he'd laughed lowly at the stupid antics of an action movie.

Yes, he really fucking liked him. Wanted to fuck him again more than he wanted air.

"And he hasn't," Brendan cringed and smiled at the same time, his face twisting comically, "repulsed you yet, so maybe keep at it?"

Chris chuckled. "Thanks, good talk."

Brendan glared at him. "I'm trying here, man, I just don't get the problem. You like him, you still like him, keep seeing him."

"Yeah, well, I want to do that but he kinda ghosted me and now he's agreed to see me again but he's not giving me much and well, I don't know how much to push it because, you know, I could lose all interest at any time."

Brendan stared at him. Chris could feel it on the side of his head where his eyes were fixed on his fingers drumming on the table.

"Fucking hell," Brendan finally said with feeling. "He ghosted you?"

"Yeah, I dunno, he seems like he's got his own problems."

"Ditch him," Brendan said. "He ghosted you. You."

Chris cracked a smile. "Thanks, but I'm hardly the catch of the century. I could fuck and ditch at any moment."

"Jesus, you'd just bail?"

"You don't get it," Chris sat up and met his eyes. "It's not conscious, but I have to get out, get away from them. If I stayed it'd be so much worse."

"Worse how?"

"Worse like, if they touch me," he shuddered, shook his head. "I just have to leave and never see them again."

"Jesus, man, that's fucking harsh. Why would you do that?"

"I thought you were supposed to make me feel better?" he replied dryly.

"What gave you that idea?" Brendan held up his hand before Chris could reply. "But seriously, you like this guy, maybe don't do that?"

"It's not conscious," Chris stressed again. Fuck, why was he having this conversation. "I freak out," Chris sat back sullenly. "I always, always, lose interest. But I actually started to like this guy, like as a person. And the sex is phenomenal."

Brendan's face twisted.

"Don't be a dick, you know guys fuck," Chris said.

"Do you want to hear about my sex life?"

"Fuck, no," Chris looked aghast.

"Exactly, it's not the ass fucking, it's you doing the ass fucking."

Chris couldn't help it; he cracked up. Brendan laughed along with him, looking relieved.

"Well, I still think you should ditch him if he's just randomly ghosting you for no reason," Brendan said after they'd settled down. It sounded awkward, but well, the whole conversation was awkward; and stupid if that was the advice he was getting.

"But he's the only guy I've ever really liked, like, after I've slept with them."

Chris could practically feel Brendan judging him, but he appreciated his effort to keep that to himself and soldier on with the conversation. "Maybe get him a gift, and maybe don't get repulsed by him."

"It's not conscious," Chris repeated.

"And maybe you need a psychologist."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

Brendan looked at him like he was about to burst with a torrent of words and Chris laughed again.

"It's like," he sat back and rocked from side to side, eyes on the windows, "it's who I am. I can't help it, I just lose all interest."

"But not with this guy?"

Chris was about to reply when Brendan did it for him. "Not yet, I get it."

Chris sighed. Brendan clearly didn't, but Chris appreciated the sentiment.

"Maybe tell him the problem," Brendan said.

"Tell him at any point in the near future, directly following orgasm, I will feel disgusted and want to flee as far from his body and smell as humanly possible?"

Brendan's face went through a series of emotions—shock, judgement, hilarity. He settled on the last one.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, man, it's better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"Never seeing him again, always wondering if it might've been different this time."

"And if it's not?"

"You've at least given him a heads up, let him decide if you're worth it."

"He's not going to think I am, trust me."

"Then he's not worth it."

Chris grinned. "Thanks, buddy."

"Shut up, are you going to tell him?"

Chris groaned. "Alright."

"Good. Now can we pick a fucking logo so I can get home to my woman."

"It's the teal. We've both known it's the teal for hours."

"No shit, but someone had to babysit your sadness."

Chris laughed, but when they got up to leave and he thanked him, they both knew it was genuine.

Chris decided to take on at least half of Brendan's advice. He wasn't going to tell Joq about his problem—God, no, even the thought of giving breath to those words made him want to run a mile in the opposite direction—but he could go the gift route to show he was seriously interested.

Joq had said he was getting a cat.

Chris ordered the Rolls Royce of cat toys, stands, researched feline vets in Melbourne and opened an account with one near Joq's place and told them to send him any and all future bills. He had the stuff delivered, sent Joq the link to the vet with the explanation, then sent him a long text with detailed pictures of a house in the US where they'd fitted all of the walls with landings so the cats could stroll around at their leisure and asked if Joq would be interested in getting his place decked out like that.

His phone rang.

Joq.

Chris' heart flipped.

"Hello?" he asked.

"What the fuck is all this?" Joq replied.

"It's for your cat. You did get the cat, didn't you?"

"I did, but why are you sending me all of this stuff?"

"I want to make sure he's taken care of."

"She."

"Oh, a female, good, that's better," Chris rocked back in his chair and smiled. "I was reading up on them and apparently the males can get urinary tract problems if they get stressed and it can be difficult to detect—"

"Chris," Joq cut him off, "what are you doing?"

"I'm," he paused, just say it, he berated himself. "Trying to tell you I want to see you again."

"You already told me."

"Well, clearly not well enough because you won't see me."

Joq sighed heavily down the line. "Hang on," he said after a moment and Chris heard him moving around what he suspected was his apartment, the sound of a door opening, a low, deep howling sound, a thump on the floor, and a door closing quickly.

"What is that?" Chris asked.

"The cat," Joq replied.

"She doesn't sound too happy," he replied carefully. "Maybe you should consider the redesign."

Joq started laughing. It was a slow building thing, and then he was cracking up down the line—it seemed incongruous to his normal personality, and it sounded like it came from somewhere heartfelt and deep. It made Chris smile helplessly as he pictured it.

"She's awful," Joq finally said. "She won't let me in my room."

"Really?" Chris was delighted. He hadn't realised until that moment he was kind of jealous. Of a cat. And he was glad he'd never tried to do this relationship thing before because it clearly made him deranged.

"Yes. The shelter people said I can bring her back, but one, I can't even pick her up, how would I do that? And two, that feels like a fucked-up thing to do, doesn't it? She's got a difficult personality so I what? Just get rid of her?" Joq asked expressing more to Chris in one go than he ever had.

Also, with that statement, Chris thought maybe he had a shot after all. If Joq was willing to look past flaws. Who was he kidding? He wasn't a fucking cat and being okay with a deranged boyfriend was not the same as being okay with a deranged cat.

And where the hell had ‘boyfriend' come from?

"Chris?" Joq asked.

"I'm here, sorry, just thinking," he replied still distracted because yes, boyfriend was what he wanted, screw his problem. It wasn't happening with Joq, it probably wouldn't happen.

"Please don't tell me you're thinking about sending people round to catch her. I'm keeping her, I just need to figure out how to get her out of the room."

"I wasn't thinking that, no. I agree, you should give her a chance."

"Are you drawing a parallel here?" Joq asked and Chris could feel the eye roll.

"No, of course not."

"You so are," Joq said around a laugh and Chris relaxed.

"So, want to get dinner with me?" he asked after a while.

"Hmm," Joq said. "Maybe coffee. Don't send anymore shit."

"Coffee would be perfect. Usual place? I can be there in thirty minutes."

"I can't," Joq replied. "Tomorrow, nine."

Chris had a meeting at eight, but he'd wrap it up quickly. How much more could they possibly re-tweak the brand? He still didn't understand why they were already re-branding, but according to the ‘experts' they needed to get it right in the early stages so it'd stick long term. He'd already moved on to the next idea, he just wanted to get it done.

"See you then," he replied with a grin.

"Alright, well get off the phone, I need to deal with this maniac."

"Oh, before you go, what's her name?"

"The cat?"

"Yes, the cat."

"Delia. She came with the name."

Chris smiled. "From ancient Greece, the island where Artemis and Apollo were born." That classic education was finally coming in handy.

"Or the character from The Young the Restless," Joq retorted and Chris laughed.

"See you tomorrow," Joq said.

"Can't wait."

"Bye Chris."

"Later, Joq."

Chris hung up feeling good. Gifts. Gifts were the key. Screw the truth. It probably wasn't going to matter.

Chris watched Joq walk into the café, his eyes scanning the people lining up for the barista, and Chris had to take a beat to swallow, steady his pounding heart, and clear his throat so he could call him over.

"Joaquin," he said as he stood from where he'd commandeered them a table on the farthest edge of the open space dotted with canvas umbrellas crammed between the laneway and another café.

Joq heard him over the bustle of noise, met his eyes and smiled. It was a small thing, but it was real and it made the butterflies in Chris' stomach ramp up into overdrive. He really wondered how in the hell people ever dated if it always felt like this.

"Hey," Joq said once he was close enough, his blonde hair falling in wisps in front of his eyes before he pushed it back with a casual hand, still smiling.

"I ordered," Chris said and indicated the table where two coffees sat steaming. "Thanks for coming."

"I wanted to avoid further cat toys taking over my apartment, thought I better," he replied, but he was still smiling, and Chris took it as a win.

"Sorry, she likes it though?" he asked as they both sat.

"She doesn't like anything," Joq replied as he took a seat.

"Maybe you need a pet psychologist."

"They have those?"

"I honestly don't know," Chris responded a little breathless; he couldn't quite believe Joq was here. He didn't even care what they were talking about. "Probably?"

Joq shook his head. "She probably just needs some time. It's nice anyway, having someone else in the apartment."

"You don't like living alone?"

Joq's hand paused where he was reaching for his coffee before he moved again like he'd stalled and rebooted. His eyes were fixed on his coffee as he replied, "Not used to it, I guess."

"I've always lived alone," Chris replied not wanting to pry into who Joq used to live with even though he really, really wanted to ask. "Even when I lived with my parents or at boarding school, it felt like I lived alone. What's that saying? Surrounded by people but alone."

"Maudlin," Joq replied, lips twisting into a smile.

Chris grinned. "I liked it. Anyway, how are you?"

"I think you know how I am," he sat back, crossed his arms over his chest.

Chris reached for his coffee. Coffee probably wouldn't help. Everything felt magnified—his awareness of the brown liquid in the mug, the feel of Joq's presence breathing in front of him, the number of people around them. Chris couldn't recall feeling anxious in his entire life; he was the type to shrug stuff off, fall into indifference, never get too close. He didn't like it at all. But he liked Joq. And he liked wanting someone. Really wanting them.

He decided that was worth getting over himself.

"I like you," he stated.

"I'm not—"

"Looking for anything serious, I get it, but," he smiled nervously, "maybe we could go back to before, before I pissed you off and you ghosted me."

Joq shook his head and sipped his coffee. "You didn't piss me off."

"Hurt you then."

Joq snorted. "You didn't hurt me either."

"Well why not carry on like before if you're not hurt or pissed off?" Chris asked both hopeful and kind of pissed off himself.

"The drama," Joq replied steadily. "I've had enough drama from being with someone to last me a lifetime."

"If you get involved with people, you're going to have some drama."

"Exactly."

Chris sipped his coffee. He'd just negotiated himself out of it. His grandfather would've watched that series of moves and levelled him with a look full of disapproval.

He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest and decided to treat it like a business negotiation, that'd put him on stable ground.

"I think you enjoyed," he paused over the word choice, "our time together."

Joq stared at him, but his lips twitched in a ghost of a smile.

"And I think you do like me, just a little bit."

Joq glanced away, a crack in his armour showing.

He didn't say anything and Chris waited. Waiting was the hardest and most important part.

"Be with me. Exclusively, I mean," Chris blurted. Screw his problem.

Joq met his eyes. "Not open?"

Chris was aghast. An open relationship? "Definitely not." He started stirring his coffee aggressively for something to do with the jealousy that roared through him. "I don't want to share you."

And for some reason that seemed like the perfect thing to say because Joq relaxed, smiled warmly like he'd never smiled at Chris before and Chris couldn't help returning it, full of hope and nerves.

"I meant what I said, before," Joq said with forced composure—Chris could see the hurt behind the words Joq was clearly trying to conceal. "You really could do better. You don't know me, I went through something, did something," he flicked his eyes up, something broken in the look, "and I don't know if I'll ever get over it."

"I'm far from perfect," Chris said.

Joq shook his head, all vulnerability evaporating. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Consider me warned, is that a yes?" Chris rushed out.

"It's a," Joq looked around, "let's see where this goes."