CHAPTER THIRTY

YEARN

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Once Dmitri had realised that he liked Tariq, he could not stop thinking about it.

Every minute of his day was spent just thinking about it, thinking about how he could get rid of it, how he could go about his day without exposing himself and his ridiculous thoughts. He thought about it all the time.

When he was at the coffee shop and Tariq came downstairs to tell him about the tattoo he had just given someone. When he handed him his coffee and their fucking fingers brushed, something that always happened, but now, his touch felt like fire every time it happened. Even when Tariq was just seated in front of him, on his phone, doing nothing but scrolling through his Instagram feed.

There was no exception now, either. This time, however, Tariq was making it very difficult for him to not think about it.

Because right now, Tariq was in Dmitri's room, and he was shirtless.

Typically, Dmitri wouldn't have been fazed, not in the least bit. He had seen Tariq shirtless multiple times before, for good reasons like sex, and for bad reasons like when he had a fever and clothes just made him even warmer.

"— So, yeah. That's the tattoo."

Dmitri hummed, raising his head from the spot that he was staring at on the ground. "When did you get it?" he asked, hoping, praying that Tariq couldn't tell that he was flustered out of his fucking mind.

Flinging himself onto Dmitri's bed, Tariq just sprawled his limbs out, staring up at the ceiling as he said, "I think I was twenty? It's in Urdu!"

"I can see that," Dmitri laughed out, shaking his head as he moved closer to get a better look at the tattoo. Or at least, that was what he was telling himself. "What does it say?"

Tariq hummed, leaning his right hand over his left hand to grab a bottle of water, only to place it on his cheeks and say, "Mm. Cold." Then, he flipped over so that he was on his side, facing Dmitri. Still shirtless. "It's for my parents. Got it right after I came out to them, it just says love."

Fuck. How am I supposed to stop liking him? Fuck.

"I mean, they don't like tattoos at all— completely valid, since I'm prone to infections and shit," he continued, his t-shirt balled up on his chest. "But they liked this one. Mostly because I did it myself, and I was super safe. Do you like it?"

Naturally, since Dmitri was a fucking mess and also a loser, he just stuttered out a weak, "Y-Yeah. It's nice. Looks great. Really— it's really nice. Great."

Smite me, God. Do it, please.

Snorting out a laugh, Tariq shook his head at Dmitri, and with a roll of his eyes, he said, "Weirdo. You're acting odd," he pointed out, shrugging his t-shirt back on. "Did I do something?" he asked, a small frown appearing on his face as he pushed himself upright, staring at Dmitri.

"You didn't do anything," he managed to get out in response, choosing to ignore the pointed look of disbelief that Tariq shot his way. "I promise. It's just— it's a weird day. I mean, it's been a weird day."

At that, Tariq's frown just got more prominent. Shit. "Like— it's a weird day, mentally? Or just a generally weird day? I can leave if it's a weird day mentally, I promise. I won't even be mad or anything."

From the moment Dmitri called Tariq over to his house, he had regretted it. Because Tariq was so close to him, they were in the same room, in the same bed, their bodies kept touching each other, and Dmitri was so unbelievably queer.

Especially for Tariq. At that moment, only for Tariq.

To top things off, Tariq was being so fucking nice, for some reason. With his concerned, I can leave if you want, and his offer to clean Dmitri's room for him, because even though Dmitri was in the process of getting his life on track, cleaning his room wasn't something that he felt up to doing just yet.

"No, no," Dmitri was quick to say, watching as Tariq's shoulders relaxed a little, the frown lifting from his face. "It's just that I—" I want to kiss you, and it's getting harder and harder to convince myself that this feeling will pass. "It's a weird day, that's all."

Tariq shrugged, taking a sip of water from his bottle. "If you say so," he mused, eyes wandering around the room, finally settling on the history books that were lined up on his shelves, the only books that he ever read. "You mind if I borrow one of those?"

Dmitri just stared at him. For a whole ten seconds, until he said, "You want to borrow my history books?"

"Yeah!" Pushing himself off the bed, Tariq made his way over towards the shelves, taking a book out and examining the cover. "This is gonna sound fucking weird, but— I want to read shit that you like. I mean, I know that you're teaching History, and that we did that shit in high school, but... Not all of this is high school shit, right? It's shit that you just read because you're interested in it?"

Fuck, if Dmitri's crush— if he could call it that— on Tariq didn't leave in the next few days, he was royally fucked.

Still, he drawled out a hopefully nonchalant, "Sure. Borrow whatever."

A victory cheer and a fist pump into the air later, Tariq shoved a book into his bag that he carried everywhere with him, just to lug around two water bottles with him wherever he went.

It had started when the two of them were in their Junior year of high school and they had gone on a date to a carnival in town, one that took place every year. Of course, neither of them had anticipated Tariq nearly passing out from the heat, so they hadn't taken any water bottles along with them.

Tariq always was one of those bitches who would pass out during the school assemblies.

But from that moment on, he had begun to carry bottles of water everywhere he went.

"I'm not gonna clean anything up, I know that you hate that," Tariq began, picking up the fresh t-shirts that had come out of the dryer and shoving them into his closet. "Just putting some shit back. If that's okay. Is it? Okay, I mean?"

Dmitri hummed, going onto his phone for just one second, but in that split second, Tariq had managed to shove all the clothes back into the closet, and before he knew it, he was launching himself back onto the bed, nearly injuring himself in the process.

"Woah, woah," Dmitri breathed out, reaching out to steady him, acutely aware that his hands were gripping Tariq's body, and that Tariq's body was in his hands, and that he was touching Tariq's body, and— Fuck. "Are you—" I need to stop looking at his lips. "Are you okay?"

Tariq smiled, pink, slightly chapped lips curling upwards, so slightly chapped that if they weren't as close as they were to each other, Dmitri wouldn't have noticed the tiny cracks in them. "I'm—" Then, his eyes shifted for a second, gaze shifting down as he just nodded. "I'm good."

With each breath that Tariq took, Dmitri just fell harder, because holy fuck, Tariq had the nicest smile, and as far as he could remember, the softest and the most kissable—

Fortunately (or unfortunately, Dmitri couldn't tell), Tariq leaned back a little, but not before breathing out a soft laugh and an even softer, "Sorry."

"Uh—" Dmitri began, watching as Tariq moved out of his grasp and sat down on the bed, going back to his scrolling on his phone, like everything was fine. Like everything was normal.

Maybe everything was normal. Maybe he was just making it seem like it wasn't, maybe his brain was deceiving him— as it always did— into thinking that Tariq's eyes had flickered down to his lips.

Or maybe it wasn't.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Dmitri finally muttered, not waiting for a response as he pushed himself off the bed and went into the bathroom, instantly locking the door behind him. I can't do this. Fuck.

As ridiculous as it was, it just wasn't right for him to like Tariq. It was a known and painful fact that Tariq didn't do relationships anymore, he had said it himself. It was also known that Tariq liked to fuck around, sometimes without even knowing that he was doing it.

Meaning that him looking at Dmitri's lips could have been him fucking around. 

The toilet seat was already down, so Dmitri just sat himself down on it, hunching over and rubbing his arms, letting out a groan.

Unfortunately, he had underestimated just how loud the groan would be, and before he knew it, Tariq was knocking on the bathroom door.

"You shitting or something?"

Breathing out a laugh, Tariq just had the ability to make him laugh when he was panicking about him, Dmitri shrugged, before realising that no one could even see him. "Not shitting." Just freaking the fuck out.

Tariq had definitely been fucking around. There was no way that he wasn't fucking around when his eyes had travelled down from his own eyes to his lips, when his gaze shifted from amused to teasing.

Just because you like him, it doesn't mean that he likes you.

Huffing, loud enough that it was heard through the bathroom door, Tariq hummed and said, "Okay. Well, whatever it is that you're doing, finish it fast because Juno's still asleep, and I want to hang out with you. And I need a charger, my phone's dead."

I want to hang out with you.

Fuck, Dmitri was going to lose his mind by the end of the day if Tariq went on with the things that he was saying.

What was frustrating was that Tariq always said shit like this, but only now, was Dmitri getting flustered by it, because only now, did he realise that Tariq constantly said shit that could be taken as him flirting.

The worst part, however, was that Tariq didn't even realise the impact of what he was saying.

Deciding that hiding out in his own bathroom wasn't the best idea, Dmitri made his way out of the bathroom, shooting a dry smile at Tariq who was on the ground, sitting next to Juno and just watching her.

"Your cat is my favourite thing in your room," he stated, face instantly brightening when Dmitri handed him a charger. "She's so cute. Look at her, sleeping so fucking peacefully. She's so round. And so cute. I love her."

"She's a menace," Dmitri shot back in an instant, lowering himself to the ground and sitting down beside Tariq. Close enough to him that he could smell the lavender on him, but far enough that he wasn't touching his knees with his own.

That is, until Tariq moved closer to him, making sure that their knees touched each other.

"If I took Juno for a day just to hang out with her, would you hate me?"

Another thing to like about Tariq. He shared his love for cats.

At this rate, there wouldn't be much left to not like about Tariq.

"You know that she's blind, right? It's not that easy to take care of her if you don't know how," Dmitri laughed out, trying his very best to not act stupid because of something as simply as Tariq's legs brushing against his, when they had literally slept in the same bed together.

Tariq shrugged, eyes flitting towards Juno again, a small smile spreading across his face as he looked at her. "Yeah, I know. Guess I can accommodate to hanging out with you for a day, too. But just know that you're the side piece, Juno's my main squeeze."

"Okay, furry."

Barking out a laugh, Tariq shook his head. "You're fucking weird," he muttered, resting his head against the cupboard and closing his eyes, a position that Dmitri was quite familiar with.

His cupboard happened to be his crutch during his panic attacks, the head-resting-against-the-cupboard position his go-to when he was panicking.

Luckily for him, he hadn't had one in almost a month, now, meaning that he hadn't found himself slinking to the floor in the position that Tariq was seated in in a while.

A small victory, but a victory nevertheless.

Claire had told him that he had to start treating the small victories as just as important as the big ones, because there wouldn't be a lot of big ones.

Maybe she didn't say the last part, but that was what Dmitri was telling himself in order to actually implement the shit that Claire was telling him.

"Are you free on... Wednesday?" Tariq asked, breaking the silence that they had fallen into. "That's the fifth, by the way. Of May. Wednesday. Are you free?"

Yes. Always yes. "For what?"

Tariq huffed under his breath, muttering a joking, "Always asking questions." Then, he lifted his head off the cupboard and turned his head around to face Dmitri. "I just wanna spend some time together and shit. It's rare that I feel physically healthy, but I've been feeling pretty good recently, and it's nice. Feeling healthy is nice."

A small laugh escaped Dmitri's lips, a genuine one as he looked at Tariq.

And for the second time that day, he wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Because Tariq's lips, holy shit, Tariq's lips were so fucking perfect, it was unreal. His slight stubble that he refused to shave off fully, claiming that he looked like he was eighteen and not twenty three whenever he did. Even that, something that he used to find annoying, was perfect to him.

Don't do it. He doesn't like you. Don't do it. Don't—

Then, Tariq inched forward. Just a tiny inch, maybe even half an inch. But it was enough for Dmitri to notice.

Do it. I can do it. I should—

"Sorry," Tariq breathed out. Why? "Sorry," he muttered again, moving away from Dmitri, two inches back. "My bad."

I can't kiss him when he doesn't want to kiss me.

At that exact moment, Juno yawned softly, waking up from her sleep.

And at once, Tariq's attention was off him and on Juno instead, his voice taking on a sugary sweet but still rough tone as he said, "Hey, Juno." Fuck. "Did you sleep well?"

As he continued to talk to Juno and receive no reply, Dmitri just closed his eyes for a second, and sighed.

Fucked. I'm so fucked.

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