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Affection

Summary:

After two weeks, Stefan isn’t sure if he’s ever meant to remember. His desire doesn’t subside but he’s come to accept the reality of the situation.

Then it all hits him at eleven pm on a Tuesday night.

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Stefan finds that remembering is harder than he thought.

“At least give me a hint,” he says, the hand once pulling at his earlobe now fisting at the hair at the back of his head. He gives it a tug, winces.

Something strange flashes in Colin’s eyes as he catches the action and Stefan rejoices at the show of emotion because Colin’s given him the same poker face the entire day of his pestering.

They’re the only ones still at the office this late at night and Stefan wonders if he should scream, if he should grab Colin by the collar and demand he tell him of their past lives together.

But it’s not in him to do anything like that, not even when Colin repeats the same answer he’s had to all of Stefan’s requests up to now: “Nope.”

“This is so frustrating,” Stefan spits. “You’re frustrating.”

Colin doesn’t show any expression for a moment but then he’s giving the smallest of amused smirks. Stefan grits his teeth.

“This is funny to you? You’re a right fucking prick.”

“Stefan,” Colin says, no longer smirking, “I don’t think it’s funny.”

“Then stop smiling.”

“Fine.”

Stefan drops his head in his hand. From where he’s looking down, he can see Colin’s fingers twitch in his lap.

“I want to remember. The different timelines or whatever they are, I feel like they’re real. I can’t describe why, it’s this feeling I’ve been having. Indisputable. I-” Stefan swallows roughly as he looks at he clenches his hands in his lap. “I need to remember.”

There’s a beat of silence in which Stefan’s hope swells. The sigh Colin gives saps it all from him.

“If you’re meant to, you will.” Colin stands from his desk. The silence is deafening. “Take care of yourself, mate.”

After two weeks, Stefan isn’t sure if he’s ever meant to remember. His desire doesn’t subside but he’s come to accept the reality of the situation.

Then it all hits him at eleven pm on a Tuesday night.

The mug once in his hand clatters to the desktop. Tea cascades over the edge of the desk. He doesn’t know what he did to bring on this flood of memories; it happens as randomly as finally pinpointing a word that’s been on the tip of your tongue.

He forgets the puddle on the floor, pulls on his coat and nearly runs out the door.

“Me and you.” Stefan is out of breath and shaking on Colin’s doorstep. His bleach blonde coworker stands in the doorway, eyes twinkling with subdued interest, maybe pride and something like fondness. “I remember, Colin. I remember.”

Colin opens the door. He stands to the side. Stefan enters and the close proximity triggers another flash of familiarity within him.

He can smell Colin: a faint trace of musky cologne, bitter sweat, robust cigarette smoke, tangy weed, and something else warm and completely him.

Stefan’s head swims with it. His heart aches with the comfort it brings him. More memories surface, ones of them holding each other in the privacy of a bed, their bed , noses against throats, in hair, in the hollow of armpits, the crease of thigh and groin.

His knees buckle. A hand catches his wrist. Another barely takes hold of his waist. Stefan doesn’t hit the floor but is kept upright and he thinks this isn’t the first time Colin’s done this for him.

“Easy, love,” Colin murmurs, and while he has yet to call Stefan that name this lifetime, it’s so, so, so familiar to Stefan and welcome and wanted and needed.

They round the corner and into sight comes the living room and the kitchen. Stefan clears his throat, lifts a finger and points at the breakfast table across the room.

“We shagged there once.”

He knows it like he knows the sky is blue. He can feel the coolness of the wooden table on his back, the ghost of fingers trailing down his chest, scratching lightly over his nipples, gripping his hips. He can feel lips mouthing at his pulse, a tongue dipping into his belly button, open-mouthed kisses and sucking at the back of his thigh, down, down-

Stefan flushes bright red. Colin pulls a cigarette from behind his ear, places it between his lips and lights it.

“Yup,” he says and exhales smoke, “we did.”

They sit on the couch. They don’t speak for a while. For once, Colin seems hesitant and unsure. There’s tension in his arm as he ashes his second cigarette in five minutes into the ashtray on the coffee table.

“What do you remember?”

Stefan shakes his head. He shrugs.

“A lot. Not everything. I know there’s more. But I don’t know what it is.”

He chews his tongue but decides that if he were to talk about what he remembers, maybe it would help him not only sort through it all but remember whatever else is just outside of his grasp.

So Stefan starts at the beginning, or one of the many beginnings they’ve had.

“We were working on a new game together. Can’t remember the name, but we were excited. It felt great to create something together. We were working at mine. You asked if you could kiss me.” Stefan smiles without even noticing, a flutter of butterflies swarming in his stomach at the memory. “I said yes. You kissed me here.” He touches the left corner of his mouth with a feather light touch. “Then you properly kissed me.”

Stefan slouches his shoulders a little. He’s still smiling softly as he stares at the bookcase ahead of him as if looking into his memories. He hugs himself, not out of anxiety but warmth as his skin prickles with the recollection.

“I laid in bed that night. I couldn’t get to sleep. I could taste you on my lips. I could still feel your tongue on mine. I was too ecstatic to sleep. I could have run around the block if I wanted.”

After a comfortable beat of silence, Colin says,  “Thank you for sharing that,” and he’s being genuine.

Stefan falters for a moment but overcomes his anxiety so he can reach out for the man not too far from him. It’s natural the way Colin intertwines their fingers.

“We didn’t really go on dates, huh?”

Colin lets himself breathe a laugh through his nose.

“We weren’t…like that,” Stefan continues. “We went to the record store together. We did drugs at yours. A lot of drugs. Weed and acid. Nothing really serious, because you said you had lost friends to stuff like that. You said you didn’t want to lose me.”

Colin squeezes his fingers gently. His thumb begins to softly stroke the top of his hand.

“We hung out at mine a couple times but it always felt weird. I felt like it was a drag for you. My dad didn’t like you. He had a talk with me about you one time. ‘Don’t let him influence you,’ he said. I know what he meant. I fought with him once. It got bad.”

Stefan can’t remember how many times it really got bad.

“I called you, I think. Yeah. Dad had left by the time you showed up. That was the first time I cried in front of you. I fucking fell apart in your arms. You held me and told me we would be okay. We laid in my bed and it was too small but we made it work. We’re good at stuff like that. I laid my head on your chest, listened to your heart. That’s the night I knew I was in love with you.”

Colin nods his head, opens his mouth, closes it. It’s like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s so good at discussing time and computer code but putting into words the emotions the truth brings up is impossible.

Stefan gasps suddenly. He rips his hand from Colin’s, slams both hands over his mouth. He looks up at the man who was his lover, wide-eyed and dizzy.

“We had a kid.”

Colin says nothing. Stefan slides closer to him, their legs touching now. Something in the air changes, an intimacy, a love that transcends lifetimes filling their every breath.

Stefan’s eyes are full of tears as he pokes a finger into Colin’s chest. “You were a good father.”

“No-“

“Yes, you were,” Stefan says, sounding unashamedly desperate for him to realize the truth. “I remember, Colin. You were bloody amazing. I was the one who needed to be better.”

“Don’t,” Colin says sternly. “You were perfect. You were…” He looks down at his hands. “So perfect.”

He can’t remember what lifetime it had been but Stefan just remembers how hard it was at the beginning, the constant self-doubt, uncertainty, awkwardness. Stefan had never held a baby. He had never trusted himself to not fuck things up.

Colin had his own worries. His daughter’s mother was completely out of the picture and Colin wasn’t sure if he would be enough for his child. Stefan had said of course he was enough, that he wasn’t alone in this, that the baby, (P-...Pearl? Yeah, Pearl!) Pearl, would be taken care of because they would figure this out together because they were a team.

Stefan remembers a night on the couch when things had gotten easier. He had been leaning back on Colin’s chest, little Pearl in his arms. Colin had been a quiet constant behind him, his support, their silent protector.

He had trailed the tips of his fingers up and down Stefan’s bicep soothingly as a gothy record crooned sleepy songs from the record player. Pearl was such a fitful sleeper, just like her father, and it hadn’t taken long before she had begun to fuss in her sleep.

Stefan, no longer unsure in his ability to care for a child but trusting a paternal instinct he didn’t know he had, had been there to shush their baby and rock her back to sleep as Colin had pecked his neck, chaste and adoring.

Thirty minutes later, when she’d start getting restless again, Stefan would give her to her father, who would hold her against his chest and hum to her softly any one of his favorite Cure songs.

A single tear trails down Stefan’s cheek.

“We were in love.” His voice cracks. “We had a baby.”

Colin pulls Stefan into his arms.

Past memories continue to trickle into his consciousness and in all of them, Stefan gets the overwhelming feeling that it was them against the world. Right now he feels simultaneously vulnerable and the strongest he ever has.

Whatever happens next, Stefan knows they’ll get through it because they’re together again.

“We can’t go back in time,” Colin says some time later when his shoulder has soaked up the last of Stefan’s tears.

“I know,” Stefan says and he sits up.

They share a look of the deepest understanding because they know each other inside and out, have had lifetimes to do so.

“Colin,” Stefan says, “I loved you. I want to love you this time too.”

Their fingers intertwine. The strength of the link they share makes him feel so invincible, Stefan’s sure he could lift this whole sofa if he wanted to.

“Can I kiss you?” Colin whispers.

Stefan says yes and thinks he won’t be able to sleep tonight no matter how hard he tries.