79: Love?

Stephen was coming to get him. Inho’s legs bounced with nervous energy, and he was sweating slightly in his sweater. The call had been brief; Stephen had simply asked where he was and told him to wait inside. Did that mean he was going to come into the cafe? That was good, Inho didn’t want their reunion to be in the car. God, it had been so good to hear his voice. He chewed his lower lip in anticipation.

There weren’t a lot of other people in the cafe, just two staff members cleaning behind the counter, and a student with headphones in at a table by the window. Inho picked up his things and moved to a small love seat at the back of the space, then tried not to stare at the door. It was, at absolute minimum, a 45 minute drive to get here from Downtown. It was also mid-day. Did that mean Stephen left work to come to get him? He must have. Somehow, the thought made Inho a little happy.

He tried to kill time on his phone while he waited, but it was a struggle to focus. After thirty minutes, he got up and went to the counter to order them both coffees, nervously tapping the toe of his sneaker against the counter while the barista started grinding beans. He was getting too nervous; he was being ridiculous. The door opened and he spun to see Stephen enter.

Stephen spotted him and strode up purposefully. Uncertainty was written all over his face, and his hands hovered cautiously at his sides. Inho’s lips twitched automatically into a small nervous smile, and the tension broke. Stephen wrapped him in a crushing hug.

Inho let him do it. They might be at his school, but he didn’t care. Connor had sailed that ship anyway. He pressed his face into Stephen’s neck and inhaled deeply, smelling his cologne, smelling his skin. This felt so perfectly right– like the relief of cracking a joint, pressure and tension flowed out, and the world was suddenly in perfect alignment.

The lady behind the counter gave a small cough, and Inho pulled back. Stephen didn’t take his arms away. Instead, he looked at the barista as if she had just walked uninvited into their living room. The young woman flushed and cleared her throat again, “Your order is ready,” she said, nudging the tray forward. Regretfully, Inho stepped out of Stephen’s hug, and picked up the tray thanking her and guiding Stephen to the loveseat where they sat side by side.

Inho reached over to take Stephen’s hand. Stephen hadn’t taken his eyes off Inho’s face once, and despite Inho’s efforts, a helpless smile snuck out. Stephen beamed back at him, then reached his free hand out to tuck an imaginary strand of hair behind Inho’s ear. Inho leaned into his touch.

“I missed you,” Stephen said, “I’m glad you called.”

“I missed you, too.” Inho gave a small laugh, “So much. Is that weird? It’s only been a few days.”

“No, I don’t think it’s weird.” Stephen didn’t elaborate, and Inho turned pink under his gaze. He picked at a loose thread in the loveseat’s seam. “How did your test go?” Stephen asked suddenly, remembering where they were.

“Ah, I think it was fine.”

“That makes sense, you studied a lot.”

“Yeah...I was stressed, so I think I messed up on the written part a bit, but…”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Stephen picked up his coffee cup, held it briefly, then put it down without drinking.

“Yeah.” Inho ripped the loose thread from the seam. They both fell silent, their small talk topics exhausted.

Finally, Stephen cleared his throat, “Listen, I didn’t tell you properly before...But I’m sorry. For everything.”

Stephen’s face was uncharacteristically tense; the expression sat oddly on his handsome features, and he suddenly looked like a stranger. A moment passed, and Inho shook it off.

“I should have been paying better attention,” Stephen continued, “And, I’m sorry for missing what was wrong. I was an idiot. I want to do better,’ He squeezed Inho’s hand, “I want to make you happy, and I don’t want to make you cry again.” Inho broke eye contact, embarrassed by the memory. Stephen leaned forward slightly, and his nervous expression caught Inho’s attention once more. “I know this isn’t the most romantic place, and ah, it wasn’t the right timing last time either, but…” He took a deep breath. His hand was clammy where it touched Inho’s.

“Inho, I love you.” He paused a half second then continued, “I love you, and I’m sorry. Please give me another chance.”

Inho swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “No!” he blurted out, his throat compressing further with emotion. Stephen’s face sagged, then became still.

“No, I don’t mean no,” Inho scrambled, “I mean don’t apologize any more.” Stephen’s eyebrows rose, and Inho stumbled over his words trying to explain, “I haven’t been telling you anything. I was just, I don’t know, lashing out because I was hurt. It’s not all your fault.” He shook his head, trying to compose his thoughts, “I’m such a fuck up.”

“Inho, what–”

“No, wait,” Inho pressed a hand to Stephen’s mouth as if he wouldn’t stop speaking. He did though, catching Inho’s hand and kissing his fingertips gently before letting it go. Inho continued, now that he’d started he may as well get it all out, “I haven’t been telling you anything, about what I’m feeling. I’ve been acting so petty. I just feel like such a loser and like you’re way too good for me, and I got envious, I guess, of the people around you and of you and, and...I have a hard time trusting that it’s all real, ‘cause of how things went with Jamie,” shit, he was ranting, “Sorry I didn't mean to bring her up.” Stephen shrugged, “And, I just missed you so much and I’m sorry too. So, if it’s alright…” He looked up sheepishly through his eyelashes. This was the worst confession ever. Stephen was watching him with a carefully neutral expression, “I think… I think I’m in love with you...too.”

Stephen processed for a second, then a perfectly genuine smile broke out on his face, “What a bunch of bullshit,” he put his arms around Inho, dragging him closer, “How could you possibly feel inferior,” he laughed, “When you’ve got me so utterly, utterly, obsessed with you?”