Page 80 of Poolside

Chuck couldn’t do it. He’d thought he could pretend, but time had run out and he couldn't hold off the despair that clogged his throat. He pushed to his feet, stumbling slightly. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said, and turned, keeping his head down as he walked as quickly as he could to one of the half-baths tucked down a hallway.

He shut the door behind him and collapsed onto the floor. Tears welled up in his eyes, and as they spilled down his cheeks a sob wrenched from his chest like huge hands were wringing him dry. Sob after sob, and he wasn’t even sure what he was crying for.

Why was he chasing some dream when he’d had it so good before? He’d sustained a demanding job, cultivated joyous and fulfilling friendships, and, with therapy, had built a peaceful and stable life for himself. Sure, his dick hadn’t gotten hard and his libido had been shot most of the time, but now, crumpled on the floor of a bathroom in a mansion where he didn’t belong, Chuck thought those things felt trivial if it meant he’d never feel like this again.

Because the loudest and most persistent thing rattling around in his head was the excruciating fact that his romantic relationship with Tommy Littleton was always going to end like this, with Chuck unable to hide the broken pieces of himself and Tommy, when faced with the wreckage, walking away.

Time slipped away. Chuck sunk into himself, so deeply buried in a shroud of numbness he wasn’t aware of anything but his solitude and a resigned rage directed towards himself. It was one of the many curses of his depression: that he could feel a loneliness so painful while knowing there were people all around him.

He knew, he fuckingknewif he asked, Tommy would drop everything and come running. It made Chuck feel sick to think he would be the one to take this moment away from Tommy, who’d worked so hard for something that seemed so fucking silly from the outside looking in. But none of that mattered, because Tommy had decided it was important to him. It was important enough that he got up before sunrise three days a week. Important enough to face his fears.

Discomfort and shame soured in him, sending a pounding through his head and heart.

It was too much. He wasn’t strong enough for this.

Distantly he heard a knock against the bathroom door.Shit.How long had he been in there?“Just a minute,” he managed to choke out, his voice raw from the sobs that just wouldn’t stop. He needed to get up, but his legs were stiff and his body was unresponsive.

“Chuck? Is that you?” The voice was muffled through the door, but he knew right away it was Tommy.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck, Tommy was outside the door and he was going to see him and it was all going to come to an end.

Maybe if he stayed quiet, Tommy would leave. Chuck was coherent enough to know he was past the point of pretending. He wouldn’t be able to play it off as just a moment of exhaustion, not when his body still shook with silent sobs.

“Chuck.” His voice was louder, urgent. “Please, baby. Open the door.”

Resignation settled over Chuck like a heavy quilt. He reached over, fumbling with the lock. When it was unlatched his arm slumped back to the ground; the single motion draining the last of his energy.

He felt the nudge of the door against his leg as Tommy slipped inside. He heard his breath catch, a choked little gasp that made Chuck’s eyes burn even sharper. Warm hands brushed his forearms where he hugged his knees against his chest. Chuck couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.

“Fuck, baby, are you okay? Did something happen? What’s wrong?”

Tommy’s voice was soft, but Chuck could hear the panic laced through his words. He tried to steady his voice, but it came out just as broken as he felt on the inside. “I can’t, T,” he admitted with a sob. “I just can’t do it.”

“Are you hurt?” Tommy’s voice was frantic.

Chuck shook his head.

Tommy made a broken noise of his own. “What do you need?”

“Your swim,” Chuck protested.

“Fuck the swim.” Chuck opened his eyes then, finding himself face to face with Tommy’s intent brown gaze as he kneeled on the floor in front of him. His brows were knitted together, the fine lines that framed his mouth deepened in a frown. “Fuck all of it, baby. Right now the only thing that matters is getting you somewhere safe.”

Chuck couldn’t respond, not as Tommy carefully pulled him up to his feet. Not when he guided them through back hallways he didn’t recognize, or when they emerged from a side door onto the cobblestone driveway where they’d parked Tommy’s car.

Tommy helped him into the front seat. Chuck watched, silent, as Tommy reached across him and buckled the seatbelt. “I’m going to go and grab our stuff,” he said, looking Chuck right in the eye. “And then I’ll be right back, okay?”

Chuck felt himself nod. At some point his sobs had faded to shuddering breaths, his despair fading into cold, numb, apathy.

He jolted when Tommy climbed up into the driver’s seat, throwing their bags into the back. The car turned over with a hum.

Tommy held his phone to his ear as he drove through the automated gates. “Hey, Hughes.”

Chuck turned his head to look at him.

“Something’s going on with Chuck,” he went on, gaze fixed on the road ahead of them. “He’s with me out at Lake Murray, so we should be back in a little over two hours. Will you meet us at his place?”

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