Gabe

[nola_enjolras]

The truth was, he didn't much date.

And by much, that translated to almost never.

Sitting in a booth (he was exactly the type of nerd to go for the corner booth rather than the more popular bar), tapping painted-and-glittery nails against scarred wood, Eli wondered again what he was doing here. He should have made it clear that he was mostly interested in learning more about the collective and local engagement and not anything more carnal...but he'd also flirted with the man, hadn't he? It certainly felt like flirting. And he wasn't in theory opposed to seeing if tonight led to a kiss or five, even if the last time he'd made out had been...

Huh. Three years? Four?

Well, whatever unexpected interest had risen phoenix-like inside of him at their exchange, he was here now, ready to see what happened. Eli wasn't the type of man to run from the unknown.

Comments

[nola_grantaire]

Gabe was always interested in more carnal things. Sure, if he examined that impulse it would probably have a lot to do with seeking validation and worth externally rather than internally, but he was so tired of being fucked up all the time that he preferred to think of himself as an affectionate flirt. And couldn't both things be true?

Anyway, it didn't matter. When Gabe walked into the bar, all floral shirt and silver earrings and a chain around his throat, he spotted Eli like there was nothing and no one else in the room. He was handsome; he radiated a strong sense of... what? Home? Revolution? Divine love? Gabe actually stumbled, tripping over his own feet at the force of it.

Gabe tried to remind himself that Eli was just a guy, just a normal guy. Then why did he taste his heart in the back of his throat?

He approached, half-smiling. "Eli? I'm Gabriel."

[nola_enjolras]

Eli looked up at the sound of his name, a stray light from the bar hitting his eyes, and--

--and it was like being punched in the throat with no warning, no sound: just pure, undiluted emotion. He could feel his pulse jerk and race off like a startled hare, everything inside him both opening up and shutting down at once. He swore he tasted blood and gunpowder on his tongue, and Gabe's eyes were so familiar. He remembered... He...

He was stumbling up, eyes locked on Gabe, one hand reaching out blindly to take his, and it wasn't until their fingers closed around each other that he felt like his world was orienting back into something that made sense. What the fuck was all that? Memory, awareness, was pushing at the corners of his mind, but he pushed it back, gently squeezing Gabe's hand and feeling all at once brave enough to face death itself. (And fuck, but if that wasn't melodramatic.)

"Hi," he said, voice sandpaper rough. He felt drunk. He almost never felt drunk.

[nola_grantaire]

Gabe was about to make a joke about Eli reaching for his hand before they’d even really been introduced but when their fingers laced together, the words died on his tongue. He felt a jolt of something — he wasn’t sure what it was, except it was electric — and he felt so sure that no matter what happened next, he could not let go.

And then his eyes found Eli’s, and Eli looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “You okay, honey?” Maybe he’d taken a pill before Gabe got here?

[nola_enjolras]

"Yes," he said, absolutely certain. It had never been more true, actually. He hadn't been okay, and now he was. Why Gabe being there made all the difference didn't so much matter in the moment. "I'm glad you came."

[nola_grantaire]

“How could I not?” Seriously, there was no other option. “You want to sit down? You want a drink?” You want to look at me like that forever?

[nola_enjolras]

"I should probably get you a drink. That's what you're supposed to do in situations like that." Of course, he really didn't want to let go, either.

Eli barely glanced away from Gabe, catching the eye of the barkeep and gesturing. It was a commanding gesture, self-assured. Probably for anyone less subjectively hot it wouldn't have worked, but the bartender just nodded and said something to one of the servers, who started winding her way toward them. "What would you like? Oh, sitting down. Right." He'd never felt more fractured.

[nola_grantaire]

“You sure you’re okay? You seem a little… not here.” This was the reasonable smart lawyer, who now couldn’t remember to sit down or function? So strange. But Gabriel felt compelled to care for him — he manoeuvred Eli back into the booth and slid in to sit beside him, wrapping a protective arm around him. It didn’t matter that they had only just met; Eli was dazed and needed some attention. “Let’s get us both whiskey. On the rocks. Drink it slow, honey.”

[nola_enjolras]

"I didn't take anything," he countered, but he wasn't fighting against Gabe. If anything, he was soaking in the touch, intense eyes on him. "I did feel strange when I saw you, though. I am awkward, but I'm usually not so overwhelmed by people. Honestly, I tend not to notice--my sister says I'd prefer it if we were all walking brains--but I noticed you. I can't seem to stop noticing you."

He made a low noise in the back of his throat. "And that sounds like a terrible come-on. I promise I'm not trying to come on to you. Maybe there was something in my water."

[nola_grantaire]

Gabe didn’t know what to think. It sounded like Eli was coming on to him — and honestly, it was working — but then Eli specifically said he wasn’t hitting on him? “If you were trying to hit on me, I would be down, but if you say you’re not then you’re not.” But then why was he overwhelmed? It wasn’t like Gabe was stunningly handsome; it wasn’t like Gabe made the world shift beneath anyone’s feet.

[nola_enjolras]

He frowned. "This isn't the impression I was looking to make." He usually didn't enjoy being cared for--God help anyone who tried to baby him when he had a cold--but from Gabe, it felt nice. Sitting with him, touching him, was calming the turmoil of distant smoke and screams little by little.

[nola_grantaire]

“We can start over whenever you feel up to it. Just say hi, I’m Eli, and we’ll pretend all of this never happened.” As he spoke, Gabe rubbed the back of Eli’s neck, watching his face closely. He seemed more lucid now?

[nola_enjolras]

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Is that really how it works? I thought that was just for romcoms."

[nola_grantaire]

“Who says we can’t have a romcom? Who says we have to do anything how it usually works?” Gabe really, really wanted Eli to feel better. To have every moment he wanted to have.

[nola_enjolras]

"All right," Eli said, leaning forward a little, eyes locked with Gabe's. "Then I'm choosing now. It's good to meet you; I'm Eli. You have extraordinary eyes."

He cocked his head slightly. "This time I was hitting on you, for the record."

[nola_grantaire]

“Eli, when you look at me like that, I think I would die for you.” It was an extra thing to say, but Gabriel had always been extra, and Eli was looking at him like it was life or death anyway, so really, it wasn’t his fault.

[nola_enjolras]

"I'd rather you not die," Eli said seriously. "Not even metaphorically. The world needs you in it."

[nola_grantaire]

“Oh my god you’re as dramatic as me, let’s get married.” Gabriel lived for so-serious declarations of feeling.

[nola_enjolras]

"I don't believe in marriage, but I'm actually tempted, which is insane," Eli said, bewildered. He was not known for declarations of feeling--unless that feeling was righteous fury over injustice--and he had no idea what to do with just how into Gabe he was already. It really was like being run down by a truck. "Tell me more about yourself. Please."

The last was tacked on, because he really was trying to be better about demanding things.

[nola_grantaire]

"Usually when I say something like that, the other person pats my hand and tells me very kindly to chill, or let's see how the first half hour of the date goes at least, or they just laugh." Which were all reasonable responses that Gabriel tolerated with good humour, especially since they seemed to be the correct answers. But Eli sounded like he meant it, really meant it, when he replied. What if it wasn't a pill that had thrown Eli off his axis, but just Gabriel? What if that kind of sledgehammer-strong, life-altering love was truly real, and it was happening right now? And did Gabriel feel it too? He wasn't sure, but he knew he felt a lot of things, chief among them a connection to this virtual stranger, a longing and loyal connection.

"About me. Huh. I don't know, I had the usual tragic childhood. It got worse when I told my parents I was trans. I ran away when I was fifteen and I've never even seen my parents since. Which, like." Gabriel shrugged, but his expression was pained, because he spent so much time brushing off his trauma and burying it in floods of alcohol that sometimes a mere shrug just didn't cut it. "I landed in New York and learned how to live like a person, and now I'm here. I feel like I'm running my life now, I guess? Instead of just reacting to a life that's happening to me. I love it here. I love the normal stuff, music and building things and feeling connected to people."

[nola_enjolras]

On Tue, Feb 12, 2019 at 7:34 PM nola_grantaire - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> wrote:

[nola_enjolras]

He took Gabriel's hand again, the squeeze of his fingers warm and reaffirming. It felt right, clasping hands. It felt like a lifetime, both for himself and toward Gabriel--like he was reaching across oceans for him. Eli listened, focused on Gabriel. He tilted his head slightly when Gabriel brushed off his own pain, but he didn't call him on it, or reach for platitudes. (Eli had never been very good at that, his emotional IQ floundering whenever sensitivity was required. He tried, and he cared, but this was something his brother excelled at, not him.)

What was him was the quiet, "I hear you," because he did--he was taking in everything Gabriel said and letting it paint a picture. "You love building things. I'd like to hear about your creations."

[nola_grantaire]

Would it be strange to say that nothing felt more right than holding Eli's hand? Like, nothing in the history of Gabriel's life? He couldn't describe it. He couldn't even begin to rationalize it. But with their hands together like this, everything felt manageable. "My creations. Huh. Good term." Gabe smiled. "I build friendships and love affairs and coffee tables and shelves out of recycled goods. I can fix most things. But when are you going to tell me about you?"

[nola_enjolras]

"I'm more interested in shelves out of recycled goods, but all right." He lightly rubbed his thumb against Gabe's palm, taking note of the variations of skin and texture. "I grew up in Jersey. I love my blood family, but I've always been a little much for most of them, with the exception of my little brother who is the nicest person you'll ever meet. I graduated early and went straight to New York. Got involved in the city, got involved in queer culture, got involved in performance art, went to college and law school, got in and out of some legal trouble--I...really am a little much sometimes...and finally got the offer with the ACLU that brought me down here. My brother keeps promising to teach me how to do the whole zen thing."

[nola_grantaire]

"I've never been able to nail down zen either." That was why Gabriel drank. "Wait, tell me about how you're an artist. And never let go of my hand, okay?"

[nola_enjolras]

"Deal," he said very seriously, lightly scraping his nail over a ridge of rougher skin, learning the creases that made up Gabe as if they were a road map. "It's more performance art. I'm usually not the creative force. I'm...good at being a presence, or an inspiration, but the actual act of creation has always escaped me. I keep coming back to it, though. It's like I want to connect through it, but I'm lacking something vital."