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“Wait here.” I leave Barry and my slippers on the Go To Hell mat by the sliding door. “I already have to clean up after your little eggnog incident, I don’t want to have to steam the whole damn carpet when you leave, too.” I make my way to the bathroom to find a couple of towels that I roll into a ball and toss in his direction when I get back to the living room. His arms flail wildly in both directions but he doesn’t catch either.
“Noice!”
“You know what?” He laughs as he flips me off. I cross the room and pick up the closest towel on my way over.
“Here.” I hang the towel around his neck, just barely resisting the urge to use it to tug him close to me and kiss him. “So, tell me, Barry, was tonight’s behaviour brought on solely by the eggnog or have you wanted to kiss me before?”
“Shut the fuck up, Brian.” He scowls this time, all traces of humour gone from his face.
“Sorry, I’m not trying to be an ass. I’m genuinely curious.” I bend to get the second towel and help him dry his hair with it as he brushes the snow off his shoulders with the first.
“Oh.” He takes a deep breath through his nose. “It wasn’t just the eggnog. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about you,” He flushes. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Dammit, Brian, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I swear!” He shakes his fist at me, but there’s no real threat behind it.
“Like what, Barry?” The smug asshole part of my personality wants to tap dance around him and sing about how much he loves me, but I also don't want to fuck this up.
“Like you’ve got an ace up your sleeve, or like you know something nobody else knows.”
“I don’t have an ace up my sleeve, I’m just happy to see you.”
“God, I hate you.”
“I hate you, too,” I smile at him. “So, why the hell haven’t you said anything before now?” I take a few steps back to give him some space.
“I didn't think you'd feel the same way, and I just, I don't know, man, I didn’t want to risk fucking up another one of the best friendships I have.” He doesn't look at me, carding his fingers through his hair.
“Oh my god, really, Barry?” I can’t believe this kid. I didn’t think I’d been that subtle about my feelings for him, and I know he’s not that dense.
“Which part are you giving me shit for now?” He crosses the room and makes himself comfortable on the couch again, looking up at me expectantly.
“Both. I thought you’d have picked up on the fact I like you months ago, but mostly I’m flabbergasted by the part where you think our friendship is fragile enough to be destroyed that easily. If you had said something and I didn’t feel the same way I’d have been honest and we could have moved on.” I shrug and sit next to him.
“Well, it’s not like you said anything either.”
“You were with Dan. After that I wasn’t sure how soon would be too soon, so I just hoped you’d make some kind of move.” My god, I sound like a giant prick, don't I?
He takes a minute to process what’s been said, and I do my best to hold back every obnoxious comment that comes to mind about how insanely cute he looks sitting on my couch in his green Christmas sweater, hair a little bit floofier than normal as it dries naturally. “So, uh, how many months are we talking about here?” His voice is low when he finally speaks up again, and I tell myself I have no other choice but to lean in a bit closer to hear him. “Just so I know how long I’ve been missing out on that sweet, sweet dick.”
“Way to wreck a moment, Barry.” I lean back into my own space, smiling despite myself.
He laughs at himself but quickly sobers. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But really, how many?”
“I dunno. Twelve, thirteen something like that.” Try two years, maybe longer. God only knows how long I’ve been checking him out across the office, using every excuse in the book to deny myself the opportunity to tell him how I felt. There was a short period of time when I thought he might be straight, then I convinced myself I was too old for him, and we were both too busy to take the time to make a relationship work, not to mention my best friend was already in love with him. That last one was the real deal breaker for me.
“Wait a second,” He furrows his eyebrows. “You were the one who told me to go out with Danny last Septemeber—”
“Very good, Barry.” I use the same voice I’d use when talking to a dog or a small child, knowing full well that being an asshole is probably not the best idea right now and it could in fact go horribly wrong in a delicate moment like this, but it’s always easier to be sarcastic than deal with feelings and all the bullshit that goes along with them.
Thankfully he doesn’t seem to mind too much, he just gives me a playful shove and carries on. “But why?”
“Because he liked you, and you were fairly clear about your feelings for him as well.” That was a painful conversation, but I swallowed the lump in my throat and told him to go for it anyway.
“But you just said you knew you liked me a YEAR ago.”
“Right. But there were other reasons I didn’t say anything, and by the time I seriously started to contemplate making a move, Dan told me how he felt about you, and I wanted nothing more than for both of you to be happy and — Oomph.” Before I have time to register what’s happening, he’s sitting in my lap. “What the fuck?”
“What about your happiness?” He looks me full in the face, eyes searching mine for an answer I'm not entirely sure I have.
It didn’t matter to me. I don’t say it out loud because it sounds too much like some bullshit ‘I-loved-you-more-than-i-loved-myself’ subplot from a shitty teen romance novel. “I don’t know.” I do my best to shrug it off.
“You are a hard creature to figure out, but I’m going to try.” He kisses me again with no hesitation this time. I curl my fingers in his hair and kiss him back whole-heartedly. Apparently I don't need all the answers when I've got his lips pressed against mine.
It feels like I’ve waited so long for this, and now that it’s finally happening I surprisingly don’t feel bad about it even though memories of Dan sit in the back of my mind, crying about the breakup and telling me he’d never love anyone else. But I’ve heard that before; he said the same thing about Arin, and that girl from New Jersey whose name I’ve forgotten, and that other girl from Canada, and god only knows how many other people in between. He'll bounce back, he always does.
I’m jealous of Danny in that sense; I envy his ability to give his whole heart away to somebody, then when things go south he cries, then he gets right back in the game. I’ve never been good at that.
“You’re pretty great.” Barry says when we break apart, then drops his head to rest on my shoulder. “I’ve always thought that, you know? I’ve had a thing for you since the day I met you, but I just kept pushing it to the side for one reason or another.”
My heart swells with affection for my co-worker but I refuse to turn into a sap this late in the game. “Stroking my ego is not going to get you very far.”
He doesn’t skip a beat before he says, “What if I stroke something else?” He looks up at me and waggles his eyebrows.
“My god, Barry, it’s like, four o’clock on Christmas morning, it shouldn’t be legal to make such obscene comments.” I attempt to push him off, but I don’t put too much effort into it, rather content with this wonderful gift of Barry on my lap. “Stop being a horny little shit for like, twelve-seconds so we can call Dan, okay? Then we can figure out what’s going on from there.”
“Oh, shit, yeah, I almost forgot about that.” He crawls off my lap and I walk around the apartment, trying to remember where I left the house phone.
One of these days I might remember to put it back in its cradle in my bedroom, but today is not going to be that day.
We spend fifteen minutes looking for the cordless phone before giving up. “It’s Christmas, and I like you, so I’m gonna let you use my cell. Just don't talk forever, okay?”
“Will you please get in the twenty-first century and get an unlimited plan?” Barry rolls his eyes.
“Nobody calls me. I barely need the hundred minutes I currently pay for.”
“Well, I’m going to start calling you.” He crosses his arms across his chest.
“You’d better.” I retrieve my cellphone from the bedroom and return to the kitchen where he's sitting on the counter, swinging his legs. “The number is already up, you just have to hit ‘call’.”
“Can you call him for me?”
“Seriously?” I eye him.
“Please? I don't want to die this morning.”
“So you're going to sacrifice me to SaDan? Thanks, buddy.”
“No problem, pal.” He grins.
I sigh for effect but hit the call button anyway. “Merry Christmas, Danny!” I don't even wait for my bandmate to say hello. “We didn’t want to wake you—“ I try to explain why we didn’t call earlier but he’s not hearing any of it.
“Oh my god. ‘We’? Does that mean Barry’s still there?”
“Yeah, he’s—“
“Put him on the phone.” Oh boy, I've heard Dan angry plenty of times over the years, and he's clearly unimpressed with us right now.
“Okay, but you should know—“
“Right now, Brian.” He doesn’t give me the chance to explain; Barry was thinking about you, and he wanted to call sooner. I'm the dumbass that forgot when we came back inside. Take it easy on him.
“All right, one second.”
“Merry Christmas!” Barry tries to sound warm and happy but he looks genuinely scared. I move to wrap my arm around his waist and be as encouraging as possible.
“It's fine.” I whisper. “Danny’s just a tiny thing. He can't actually hurt you.”
Barry laughs away from the speaker. “I’m so sorry, Dan, I forgot it at home.”
I can't quite hear all of Danny’s words, but I hear my name, then Barry holds the phone away from his face to talk to me. “He says he called you tonight, too.”
“We must've been outside.” I don't dare ask what time he tried to call.
“I'm really sorry Danny . . . I know, I know, I didn't forget about the French toast . . . We’ll discuss that when I get home.” He pauses. “Speaking of getting home, um, I don’t know if you’ve noticed that it’s snowing or not, but I’m kinda stuck here.”
“Hey now, you’re not ‘stuck here’. You get to be here. It’s a privilege, not a punishment.”
Danny says something else and Barry hangs up, laughing.
“Brat.”
“Sorry, I didn't mean that last part, but Dan's really pissed.”
“He’ll get over it. He always does."
“I hope so,” He pauses. “Now, about your ego.”
“It’s like, five am, Barry. My ego is going to bed with me. If you didn’t feel like you were ‘stuck here’ I might’ve let you come to bed with me, too, but whoops,” He pouts and I’m hit with a heavy dose of satisfaction. “There are towels under the sink, and blankets in the closet by the bathroom. You can clean up the mess you made, then make yourself comfortable on the couch. We can talk more in the morning. ‘Night boo.” I blow him a kiss as I walk away, and he curses my every step, not stopping 'til he hears the bedroom door close behind me.
It’s gonna be a great Christmas, if the first few hours are any indicator.