Anyone want just pure terrible romance Hartbreak love confessions? I'm sorry but I did.
A new city. A new hotel. Another night. Another city. Another door. Another year. Another, another, another.
Bret opens the door and it’s Shawn. It’s 2am and it’s Shawn. It’s 10pm and it’s Shawn. It’s 5am and he’s letting him in anyway. Bret stands in front of a hotel door he’s never seen before and it opens and Shawn is expecting him. How long have they done this? How many places?
“Here’s the key, just make sure no one sees you.”
How many times has it been the last time?
“We can’t keep doing this.”
“Look- just this once, okay?”
“I don’t wanna see you with someone else.”
“I don't want to see you at all!”
Somewhere in a back alley are the shards of the beer bottle Shawn threw at him last week when Bret told him you couldn’t quit what you’d never started. Shawn claimed he’d had enough. He brought it up this time. Bret’s only giving him what he wants. As usual.
It’s 9 o'clock and the red eye flight he’s supposed to be on leaves in two hours. It’s an hour drive to the airport if the traffic is good. He’s sitting on the bed staring at the wall. He hasn’t even packed his bags. Someone is hammering at his hotel door.
Another city, another hotel, another night.
The same Shawn. Always Shawn. He looks both shocked and relieved when Bret opens up.
“Bret,” he says his name breathlessly, like he’s just run up ten flights of stairs. He fumbles into the room and latches onto the front of Bret’s shirt immediately. “I don’t want us to stop,” he blurts out. His eyes look rough and red, maybe he’s not sleeping, maybe he’s been crying. He looks into Bret’s face desperately for understanding, for agreement or forgiveness or pity, for Bret to admit he also thinks they fucked up. They fucked up, but bigger this time, like maybe it can’t be fixed anymore kind of bigger. He doesn’t seem to realize Bret’s already holding him in his arms.
“Please, I don’t want to stop-”
Shawn clings to him as the words come rushing out of his mouth uncontrollably. Bret’s seen Shawn beg, but not like this.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I said that stuff and I’m - I was wrong, I made the wrong choice, I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and I- I don’t want you to leave me alone. I don’t want that. I just don’t want you to leave, I don’t want you to leave me. Bret, please- please Bret, please-”
Bret holds the back of his neck, holds Shawn still in his hands.
He doesn’t know how he even would. Shawn is the one who’s going to run, he’s always known it…and yet here they are. Here is Shawn, begging him to keep him.
Shawn’s panicked eyes quickly scan the room, the lack of luggage stands out. The lack of any sign of exodus. “But…”
Bret’s thumbs brush his cheeks, as if brushing away the tears that are only still a shimmer in Shawn’s eyes. “I’m not stopping. I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice steady and warm. He’d hoped Shawn would have a change of heart, come running back to him, metaphorically, but he never thought it would happen literally. He thought he’d probably have to swallow his pride and go after Shawn before Shawn ever came back to him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
Bret shakes his head. “No.”
Shawn is so warm, so alive in his arms, and nothing and no one else feels like this, he’s tried to pretend there could be someone else but it only ever ends up being a way to cope with not having Shawn. “No I wasn’t. I was just stupid. Just afraid to tell you the truth.”
Shawn tilts his head a little, his hair is a long mess of wind tangled strands. His jacket is hanging off one shoulder. He’s been in the rain, Bret realizes. He smells like rain and sweat and what’s probably hair spray or shampoo…did he chase a taxi to get here? Did he run? When he finally broke down and changed his mind?
It’s been three days since they ended their half a decade of trysts that they won’t call a relationship. Three days is nothing, and it’s also forever.
When he sees that he's not alone in this, Shawn’s voice becomes soft, deep, and pleading, “Tell me…”
Bret honestly thought this was going to be harder, it was at one point, but he’s realizing now that the risk of admitting it is less punishing than what happens if he doesn’t tell Shawn the truth.
“Tell me…” Shawn whispers, closer this time, crystalline hope in his unblinking eyes.
Shawn kisses him, and it's just the way Bret imagined Shawn would kiss him if he ever ended up having the guts to confess. A pure fantasy. Shawn says, “I love you,” when he pulls his lips away an inch, and it sounds natural coming from him, as if this is all perfectly usual. Even if it was a lie Bret would still ask him to say it again.
“Okay,” Bret says, giving Shawn a little smile as he says, “we can start here, if you want.”
Shawn nods emphatically, wanting Bret to know he wants this.
“Who am I kidding,” Bret says. “I began a long time ago.”
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