Greg steps up to the enormous tank, excited, hot breath threatening to fog up the surface of the thick glass separating him from the 100-pound cephalopod dwelling just behind it, as he leans in closer, and then even closer still. He can feel Tom’s eyes settle on the back of his head as his own trace the path of the octopus slowly gliding across the sand, its heavy tentacles suctioning and unsuctioning from the glass in repetitive, fluid motions. If Greg could find the words to say to properly articulate how he’s feeling right now, he might say something along the lines of, “This is the greatest moment of my life.”
To be clear, it isn’t as if Greg hasn’t enjoyed the rest of their aquarium visit thus far, which had been filled with tender moments like Tom snapping a picture of him with his hand fully submerged in the touch tank, allowing the cownose ray to glide up just beneath his palm and wearing just about the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, or Tom kissing him on the cheek where they stood impatiently waiting for the machine to finish pressing the penny they had inserted with a design of a sea turtle beneath the aquarium’s logo, or Tom making him pause in front of the jellyfish exhibit so he could show him the moon jelly that perfectly matched the exact shade of blue of his eyes, but Greg has been waiting his entire life to see a Giant Pacific octopus like this up close, ever since he turned the page to a diagram of the creature in one of the many, many animal books he borrowed from the library as a kid. And it’s only because of Tom that he’s finally getting to see it.
Caught between crying out of sentimentality or reciting everything he still has memorized from that one page of the book he studied night after night as a little boy, Greg instead turns back to Tom to share just one fact, his favorite fact, as Tom comes to nestle up beside him, “Did you know octopuses have three hearts rather than just one?”
“I suppose there’s a scientific reason behind that tidbit that you’d like to share all about?” Tom asks, fondness radiating through his voice as he wraps his arm around Greg’s waist and his head finds its familiar spot tucked into Greg’s neck.
Greg shakes his head ever so slightly in response, enjoying the warmth of Tom’s body against his as he watches the octopus continue its languid path across the bottom of the tank. “No–? I mean, I do know the real answer, but it always got to me as a kid, you know? Why does an animal like this get to have three hearts, when we only have one?” When Tom doesn’t answer immediately, he chews on his lip in quiet contemplation and curls further into his side where they stand. “Who wouldn’t you want that, if we could have it? More love to go around? Three hearts worth of it to waste on whatever you want?” Greg asks.
“Mm, I suppose that would’ve made things slightly easier for me at one time,” Tom muses with a soft hum, “One heart for Shiv, one heart for you, one heart for a cold glass of fine wine..."
Greg pouts, dissatisfied with the sarcastic response and rendered insecure by the mere mention of Shiv’s name, even if he knows full well that Tom can’t change the fact that he loved her. Suddenly, the romantic notions he had swirling in his head about the possibility of three hearts and all the love that’d come with it don’t seem so romantic anymore.
Highly attuned to any and all of Greg’s physical cues at this point, Tom instantly picks up on this and gently turns Greg using the hand on his waist so that he’s facing him rather than looking forward at the tank. “In case you’ve forgotten, my being here means you’ve utterly consumed the one and only heart that I have,” he tells Greg in what’s as much of a reminder as it is a promise, smile etched across his face. He then takes Greg’s hand and brings it up to his chest, allowing him to feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt. With Greg’s cheeks slowly inflaming to their usual rosy shade, he places his hand over Greg’s hand on his chest to keep it in place, if only for the time being. “I’ve got but the one lousy one beating away in there, when I might of had three, and I’ve chosen to squander all of it on you.”
And Greg laughs, a sweet, quiet giggle that still manages to echo off the walls of the private area of the aquarium they’ve found themselves in, like it was foolish of him to believe for even a moment that Tom wasn’t capable of offering up a grand romantic sentiment, if that’s what Greg desired. Because it is. Deep down he knows that even if Tom did have three hearts, they’d all be beating to the exact rhythm and cadence of his spoken name. Greg, Greg, Greg.
But, in this place, in this world, where Tom has just the one, he’s grateful to have captured it in the way that he did. That Tom chooses to waste his on him and him alone, for however long that they have together on this Earth.
Greg leans in then, moving Tom’s free hand to his chest now, hoping that Tom feels his heartbeat in the way that he had felt Tom’s – that he picks up on the pounding rhythm of a drum played only for him – and kisses him. Because he can, and he wants to, and he’s allowed to do that now. And because pressing his lips against Tom's is a great way to ensure that he doesn’t allow the words to spill from his lips that might sound like something along the lines of, “This is the greatest moment of my life.”
on occasion, you'll find yourself reading a poem at 12:48am about how octopuses have three hearts that spirals you into completely unrelated tomgreg thoughts for the next 24 hours, resulting in a microfic that will make sense to only you and like maybe 1 buddy total. this is one of those moments. my sincerest apologies to everyone else who may bear witness to this and find themselves totally lost. that's all. bye bye :)