Mort laughed, sheepish. He was about to say something self-deprecating, till he glanced over at James, who was just sitting back in his chair, looking at him. Don't be a chicken, his face said. You're amazing. Let them know.
All right, then. "Okay, we were roomies in college," Mort began, letting the last of his tension fade. "Finals week, nineteen-ninety, as I recall. I had one trig final left to go; James was done with all of his." He looked over at James again, just to see the God, I love you, how am I this lucky shining in his eyes... and, this time, to toss back a heartfelt same to you, James. He didn't really care if Joy and Aaron noticed.
"So he got a phone call," Mort said. "I was studying. I've always preferred slide rules to calculators for trig; I inherited my Uncle Pablo's, so that's what I was using. And--" Are you sure?
Go for it, Mortimer. It's your story.
It's your mother, Mort retorted, but he went on. "He came in and said his mom was in a car crash and they didn't expect her to make it. Started packing his suitcase." He stopped again. I feel stupid, James, it wasn't anything major!
Go on already, Mortimer, then more gently, It was the love of my life getting me home in time. That's major.
Mort blushed. He supposed it was. He took a deep breath... "So, well, I was thinking in math problems, you know. And - I guess if you hang around James long enough, you start doing the Sherlock Holmes thing too. At least I do. So I... I figured out the gasoline cost of driving to his home in Missouri - we were in California - versus the cost of a plane ticket on such short notice, and the odds of getting a ticket in how much time, and how long it'd take to drive. And I figured out that if we drove straight through, no stopping, it'd be quicker to drive."
"Note that word, we," James said. Mort couldn't look at him, because the love and pride and I am not going to cry over my awesome boyfriend in public in his voice was enough to deal with; he wasn't sure he could keep from sniffling himself, if he met James's eyes.
"Of course James didn't do any of that math," Mort said, "but I know him. He'd've called the airport right away, found out about standby flights. His bag was too big for a carry-on and he didn't ask to borrow mine, so I figured he hadn't got a ticket. And he can't stay put when there's trouble going on." Now he did glance across, just long enough to wink at James. "So I knew he was going to drive." He straightened up, leaned back, took a deep breath. He stared firmly at the ceiling.
"...so I figured out my GPA," he said. "Checked what'd happen to it if I skipped my trig final. Then I just... told him he needed my help, time-wise, asked if he'd let me come along."
"What Mortimer isn't telling you," James said, then paused and blew his nose. "'Scuse me. What he's not telling you is that he was a straight-A student, perfect attendance, the whole shebang. He does all this math in the time between when I tell him my mom's dying and the time when I finish throwing stuff into a duffle bag - and I don't pack neat." He chuckled. "And then he tells me, oh by the way, how about I blow off my trig final in favor of making sure you don't drive off the road in Texas somewhere? Oh, it's unweighted, he says, he'll get a B overall. No biggie."
"You're exaggerating," Mort said, embarrassed.
"I am not. Name one place I am exaggerating."
There wasn't one. Mort just blushed deeper and scooted down in his chair. "Well, you finish the story then," he said, trying to sound cranky. He couldn't, quite.
"Not much more to tell," James said. "We drove to Missouri, talked a lot... got there in time, if you were wondering. I got to see my mom again." He blew his nose, again. "House was packed, family all over the place, so we had to bunk together in the basement on a sleeper sofa. My sister Janna swears she's known we'd wind up together, from that day."
"Your sister Janna is... an excellent woman," Mort said, in a very definite I am not saying what I actually think tone of voice.
"Yeah, well," James said. I agree with both what you said and what you didn't say. "Janna's unique. Point is - though a long and complicated set of circumstances, that's the first time we talked about sexuality. Or more specifically, asexuality." Mort glanced across at him in time to see him grin broadly and nod or bow to Aaron.
I wondered if you'd noticed that, Mort thought. Aaron was wearing an AVEN t-shirt; he must have taken off his jacket while they were in the bathroom. Mort had only noticed the shirt about halfway through his story - but James, characteristically, had managed to bring it up without even sounding forced. How the hell can you even do that. He saw James looking at him, and grinned.
no subject
All right, then. "Okay, we were roomies in college," Mort began, letting the last of his tension fade. "Finals week, nineteen-ninety, as I recall. I had one trig final left to go; James was done with all of his." He looked over at James again, just to see the God, I love you, how am I this lucky shining in his eyes... and, this time, to toss back a heartfelt same to you, James. He didn't really care if Joy and Aaron noticed.
"So he got a phone call," Mort said. "I was studying. I've always preferred slide rules to calculators for trig; I inherited my Uncle Pablo's, so that's what I was using. And--" Are you sure?
Go for it, Mortimer. It's your story.
It's your mother, Mort retorted, but he went on. "He came in and said his mom was in a car crash and they didn't expect her to make it. Started packing his suitcase." He stopped again. I feel stupid, James, it wasn't anything major!
Go on already, Mortimer, then more gently, It was the love of my life getting me home in time. That's major.
Mort blushed. He supposed it was. He took a deep breath... "So, well, I was thinking in math problems, you know. And - I guess if you hang around James long enough, you start doing the Sherlock Holmes thing too. At least I do. So I... I figured out the gasoline cost of driving to his home in Missouri - we were in California - versus the cost of a plane ticket on such short notice, and the odds of getting a ticket in how much time, and how long it'd take to drive. And I figured out that if we drove straight through, no stopping, it'd be quicker to drive."
"Note that word, we," James said. Mort couldn't look at him, because the love and pride and I am not going to cry over my awesome boyfriend in public in his voice was enough to deal with; he wasn't sure he could keep from sniffling himself, if he met James's eyes.
"Of course James didn't do any of that math," Mort said, "but I know him. He'd've called the airport right away, found out about standby flights. His bag was too big for a carry-on and he didn't ask to borrow mine, so I figured he hadn't got a ticket. And he can't stay put when there's trouble going on." Now he did glance across, just long enough to wink at James. "So I knew he was going to drive." He straightened up, leaned back, took a deep breath. He stared firmly at the ceiling.
"...so I figured out my GPA," he said. "Checked what'd happen to it if I skipped my trig final. Then I just... told him he needed my help, time-wise, asked if he'd let me come along."
"What Mortimer isn't telling you," James said, then paused and blew his nose. "'Scuse me. What he's not telling you is that he was a straight-A student, perfect attendance, the whole shebang. He does all this math in the time between when I tell him my mom's dying and the time when I finish throwing stuff into a duffle bag - and I don't pack neat." He chuckled. "And then he tells me, oh by the way, how about I blow off my trig final in favor of making sure you don't drive off the road in Texas somewhere? Oh, it's unweighted, he says, he'll get a B overall. No biggie."
"You're exaggerating," Mort said, embarrassed.
"I am not. Name one place I am exaggerating."
There wasn't one. Mort just blushed deeper and scooted down in his chair. "Well, you finish the story then," he said, trying to sound cranky. He couldn't, quite.
"Not much more to tell," James said. "We drove to Missouri, talked a lot... got there in time, if you were wondering. I got to see my mom again." He blew his nose, again. "House was packed, family all over the place, so we had to bunk together in the basement on a sleeper sofa. My sister Janna swears she's known we'd wind up together, from that day."
"Your sister Janna is... an excellent woman," Mort said, in a very definite I am not saying what I actually think tone of voice.
"Yeah, well," James said. I agree with both what you said and what you didn't say. "Janna's unique. Point is - though a long and complicated set of circumstances, that's the first time we talked about sexuality. Or more specifically, asexuality." Mort glanced across at him in time to see him grin broadly and nod or bow to Aaron.
I wondered if you'd noticed that, Mort thought. Aaron was wearing an AVEN t-shirt; he must have taken off his jacket while they were in the bathroom. Mort had only noticed the shirt about halfway through his story - but James, characteristically, had managed to bring it up without even sounding forced. How the hell can you even do that. He saw James looking at him, and grinned.