If you cried in the middle of the street in Tulsa, people stared. And probably called you a pussy if you were a grown man like Ace. In New York, nobody seemed to care. He’d learned that early on when he and Gordy had been on the subway and he’d spotted a young woman in a work skirt and sneakers openly weeping with her satchel clutched in her lap. He’d bravely ventured forward when it seemed like nobody else wanted to comfort her, gently asking her if she was alright only to be met with an annoyed glare and a hissed response of, ‘The subway is where I come to cry, moron.’ He’d since learned that New Yorkers loved to cry out in the open - especially on their morning commute - and nobody thought twice about it.
As such, people dodged around him and the brown-haired stranger he was sobbing next to. Only a few of them grunted in annoyance when they had to side-step him.
“Sorry,” he muttered, wiping his eyes as he took a deep, hiccuping breath forcing himself to calm down. The woman had told him not to apologise, so he smiled sheepishly at her, a small shrug lifting his shoulders.
Ace listened as the woman told him all about Goose and everything he’d been up to since getting to New York. His eyes widened, heart thudding heavily in his chest as he fought not to cry again. Never did he think his little brother would cultivate a whole life for himself in another city that Ace wasn’t privy to. Who was this guy and his girlfriend? Did broody mean he was still nice to Goose? What was their cat’s name?
“Fuck,” he sniffed, running the back of his hand under his nose. Shit, that was probably gross.
“Are you meetin’ with him this Sunday? D’you think you could take me to him?” he asked. “Me and my brother came from Tulsa to find him, we haven’t seen him in months.”
The woman was still acting seemingly friendly to him, which was the only thing that turned the sudden icy feeling in Ace’s blood from freezing to slightly chilly. He swallowed nervously.
“Did he ever mention us? Gordy and me. I’m Ace. Fuck, sorry, I should’ve said that before.” He fisted a hand in the front of his hair and shook his head at himself. He gave the woman a dimpled smile, more self-deprecating than all the others he’d sent her way. “I promise I’m usually better at talkin’ to girls than I am right now.”
“Ah-ah!” Fliss gently scolded, her tone light and teasing as Goose’s brother apologised against her instruction.
With a downward glance, Fliss easily tucked her hand into the purse she was holding and brandished an unopened packet of tissues. Breaking the seal and pinching a tissue free, she held it out to him. Oddly enough, it was quite the relief to see him cry. Not nearly in the same way that New Yorkers turned a blind eye to the tears of strangers on the Subway, but just in that it was refreshing to see him so comfortable in his masculinity. It hadn’t been lost on her the amount of times Goose had tried to hide his tears beneath the collar of his t-shirt during their movie dates. There was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, quite frankly, and Fliss had always fought her father on the ridiculous ideal that crying was somehow girly.
As she dropped the remaining tissues back into her bag, she retrieved her phone instead, mind wandering at his question. Swiping through her apps with one long, manicured finger, Fliss frowned at her calendar, lips puckered into a pretty, though albeit petulant, pout. She wasn’t seeing Goose on this particular weekend, on account of the fact that she had dinner scheduled with her father. He had some ridiculous, grand opening that he insisted on her joining him for. The last thing she wanted now was to dampen the hopes of the lovely, curly boy beside her after he’d come so far and waited so long.
“I’m not seeing him this weekend, no,” Felicity admitted, offering him a sad smile.
There was a brief pause as she eyed him, a curious smile brightening up her features when she heard his name. Ace. How quaint! Gordy could only be short for Gordon, which was quite regular if she did say so herself! But Goose and Ace were charming in ways that Fliss could hardly stand it. Her heart leapt in his chest as he smiled at her, gentle and dimpled and completely adorable. Even as he insisted that he was better at talking to girls, she didn’t doubt it even for a second. She was already completely won over and she’d already watched him cry on a street corner! She couldn’t even begin to imagine how delightful he must be when operating on top form.
“Never by name, no. But he’s mentioned having brothers, he’s been very... Private, I suppose. But he’s coming out of his shell, slowly but surely,” she told him, hoping that he might find some semblance of reassurance in her words. It was all she had to offer.
Lifting a hand, bold as ever, Fliss joined him in coaxing a hand through his curls. Only, where his movements were frantic and nervous, tugging at the ends of his luscious hair, Felicity’s were far gentler. She smoothed a hand over his hair, playfully batting his hand away before sliding her fingers along his jaw. She gave his cheek a playful pinch and looked at him, a kind smile on her face.
“Well, Ace. I’m Fliss, and I think you’re absolutely lovely,” she promised him. Her fingers tickled his jaw as she traced soothing patterns into the space below his ear, her thumb moving to delicately swipe at a rogue teardrop that had lingered on his cheek. “Tell me, Ace. Do you and your brother have somewhere to stay? Because I’d love to help, if I can. I’m not seeing Goose this weekend, but... Perhaps you could come and stay with me? And I could help you reach out to him when the time is right?”
