Brian's POV
The only sound in the room is Benjamin's purring as I scratch behind his ears. Sal and I are in my living room, sitting opposite each other. This is the most nervous he's been in a long while, and he's sweating and shaking really bad.
"Where have you been?" he finally asks without looking at me.
"Here, mostly. I just...needed time to think."
"And?"
I sigh. "Sal... I'll be honest with you, I don't know what to think, or even how to react. You kinda threw me a curveball last week..."
"I know... I'm sorry." His voice is shaking as he talks.
"It's okay. Like I said, I don't care what your sexuality is."
"Then you don't mind if I... like... you?" He finally looks at me, but I can't tell if his look is one of embarrassment, pleading, or self-hate. Maybe it's all three.
"I... I guess not... But I do wish you had told me earlier."
"It's not exactly somethin' I really feel comfortable talking about."
"I know." I think back to all of the times I questioned my own sexuality. I still do, sometimes. It's a strange feeling; like you've been lying to yourself your entire life. So yeah... I know what Sal is going through, to a degree. I don't think I've had a crush on someone for twenty years; not someone I personally knew, anyways. Everyone fanboys or fangirls over celebrities at some point in their life. Right?
Suddenly he speaks up again and throws me off my train of thought. "Will you please come back to work? We haven't been able to get much done. And I... I miss you..."
Holy hell, I'm not used to hearing him say that sentence like that. "I've missed you guys too. I hate not talking to any of you." That's the truth, I realize. I mean, we've taken weeks off from each before; specifically when one or more of us goes on a vacation. But that's not very often, and after years of seeing each other at least every other day with occasional breaks, you get used to one another and it's weird not being together.
"Well, it's um... it's getting late... I guess I should go home." He says this in the most defeated voice I've ever heard, and I suddenly feel extremely bad for him.
"Wait, Sal, you can stay here if you want. Like I said, I've missed seeing you guys and you look too tired to drive." His face actually lights up at that and he helps me get him some blankets and a pillow. We pop in a movie and drink a couple of beers, just like we normally do. As the movie plays, I'm very aware of the fact that his knee rests against mine almost the entire time. This isn't an unusual thing, but considering the circumstances, it's just...unusual? And... I like it?? What the fuck? At some point, about halfway through the movie, Sal appears to nod off a little... and his head rests on my shoulder. I don't want to wake him, so I don't move. By the end of the movie he's fallen into my lap, completely passed out, so I just recline and close my eyes.
I wake the next morning to Chessie jumping up on my face. "God damn you cat!" I push him off and then feel something heavy shift on my lap. I look down and see a waking Sal, who was kinda cuddled up to me. He quickly sits up and rubs his eyes.
"Fuck, sorry Q! I didn't mean to... I was just..."
"You fell asleep," I interrupt him. "No big deal." It is a big deal. I think I kinda liked it. "Want somethin' to eat?"
Shaking his head, he says, "No, I'm too... I don't feel good, to be honest."
I pull him in for a hug, and he relaxes. "You don't have to be nervous."
He pulls away and looks at me. "Brian, I have to know. What's gonna happen now?"
I take time to think about that. "Well, I don't want us to not be friends..."
"Okay, but, are we ever gonna be more than friends?"
"I...I, I honestly don't know the um...the answer to that question..." It's my turn to be nervous and sweaty now. I don't know what I'm feeling. My heart is pounding and I have butterflies in my stomach, but it doesn't seem like a bad thing.
He slowly takes my hand in both of his and stares at it. Strangely, I let him. After a minute or so he looks up at me and asks, "Can I try something?"
"Uh, I guess?" He looks back down and interlaces our fingers. I've held his hand before, but that was in a friend way. Not in a I-like-you way.
"How does this feel?" He asks me.
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