Page 52 of Oh, Sacred Dark
“Okay.” There was a pause. “You wanna watch something?”
Roman brightened. “Yeah. We need to finish The Widower.”
“Fuck, yeah. Let’s do this.”
And if Tyler’s heart took a little while to settle when they cuddled again, that was nobody’s business but his own.
**********
Tyler and Roman talked about the upcoming six-month mark in bits and pieces. ‘IfI stay’, Roman would say sometimes, and Tyler would force himself to be measured instead of reactive, to ask Roman to clarify if he was planning on leaving.
Roman always replied with some variation of ‘No, just…Archie’s the one to decide, really’, and Tyler would assure him that, of course Archie would let him stay—Tyler was part of that decision too.Romanwas part of that decision.
The truth was, every time Roman insinuated there was a possibility he would move on, Tyler wanted to grab him and never let him go, to beg, ‘Please don’t leave me.’
He didn’t think that would go down too well.
Tyler couldn’t influence Roman’s decision. It wouldn’t be good for either of them—not for Roman and his ability to be independent, and not for Tyler, who hated the idea that Roman was only subbing for him out of obligation or a lack of other options.
The thought of that—of forcing Roman into scening—made him sick to his stomach. He knew he was falling hard for someone that might not be in a position to commit to what Tyler needed, but it wasn’t as if he could help himself.
Even if it hurt.
Seeing Roman flourish was worth the pain. He smiled so much more, opening up around the small circle of friends he had made—Cross, Charlie, Connie. Tyler. He wouldn’t sit there saying nothing, a blank expression on his face. He’d engage with the world, dipping his toes into the vastness of life outside the confines other people had built for him.
“Hey,” Tyler said one day. “How about we throw a little dinner party? I can help you cook. Invite the three C’s. Connie’s started botheringmeabout tasting your food.”
Roman hunched into himself, looking uncertain. “I don’t know.…What if they don’t…” he trailed off.
“Ro, they’re going toloveyour food. Even if they didn’t, they love your company. Maybe think about it and let me know?”
Roman nodded, quiet for the rest of the evening. It was only two days later, both of them tucked on the couch, fan whirring the night air through the living room, that he brought it up again. “About…about the dinner party.”
Tyler didn’t let the surprise bleed into his voice. “Yeah?”
“What would we make?”
“Hm. You know those three—they’ll eat anything. Do you have any ideas?” Tyler would bet that Roman had a whole list of possibilities already written down.
“Uhm…maybe a lasagna? And garlic bread. And that salad with pomegranate we tried the other day.”
“Oof,yes. That was amazing. Let’s do that!”
Roman shifted against Tyler. “Are you sure they—”
“A hundred percent, Roman. Truly. Connie is gonna explode with excitement, I’m pretty sure.”
Connie didn’t end up bursting like a popped balloon, but it was a close thing. Tyler had insisted he be there when Roman invited her, and she’d launched herself at Roman immediately.
“Yesss,” she shouted. “What are you gonna make? No, don’t tell me, I want it to be a surprise. Cross said he tried some of those leftover stuffed pasta shells, and he’s been taunting me with how good they were.”
Roman turned bright red. “I can make those if you want?”
“No, no. You’re the chef, make whatever. I’m just excited you invited me!”
Roman looked distinctly embarrassed, glancing away, but the reaction had obviously pleased him.
The day of the dinner party was hectic. Roman could have prepared that meal in his sleep, but he was jittery and absent-minded all day. Tyler had to sit him on the couch and calm him down a few hours before the guests were due to arrive, grasping Roman’s hands tightly.
