Page 70 of Hamartia

He nods again and leans in to kiss me, soft and quick. “Thank you,” he whispers. He sets his wine down and goes to change.

I’m sitting at the dining table in the corner of the kitchen, two steaming plates of mac and cheese sitting before us, when he returns. He has half of his hair pulled back in a small ponytail, a white t-shirt with sleeves that fall past his wrists and the Chanel logo emblazoned across the chest. Black sweatpants and a pair of those white hotel slippers on. He throws me a small smile as he slides into the seat and pulls his knee up in front of him. He leans in to sniff the plate of food, miming a fainting scene as he does. First, he takes large sip of his wine and then lifts his fork to dig in.

I hold my breath. Nervous.

Jae moans obscenely. Pretends to fall back into the chair, dead. Then bursts awake with a giggle and continues to eat. I can only watch him a few minutes utterly enamoured. Big scary feelings swirling in my stomach and my chest. Feelings I know the name of, but which shouldn’t be there. Not yet. Not this soon. The fact that they’re about a guy is the least troubling aspect.

A few mouthfuls in, Jae stops, glances up at me a moment, before sitting back. “What is wrong?” he asks, settling his fork down. “It really is good.”

“I know. It’s not that.”

He nods. Like he knows what it is. Like he understands what it is. Probably because he does. This likely isn’t the first time some purportedly straight guy has fallen head over heels for him. Maybe he collects them. Like necklaces or earrings.

I curl my fingers around my fork to focus on something solid. Jae wipes his mouth with the napkin, sets it down, then lifts his wine again.

“What happens tomorrow?” I ask, watching him drink.

He frowns. “As I understand, you get on a flight to Colorado from JFK. Two pm you said?”

“After that, Jae. Shouldn’t we talk about it?”

He sets his glass down and takes another forkful, chewing slowly and thoughtfully while staring at the plate of food.

“I don’t think we can,” he says. “Not until you know.”

“Know what?”

“What this is.” He continues eating.

Until I know. I do know. I think I do. But knowing it and saying it feel worlds apart. My entire life changes the moment I say it.

I eat a few bites, suddenly not hungry, but desperately thirsty. I gulp a few mouthfuls of water, then a large one of wine. Then repeat. When his plate is clear, he reaches for another helping, then tops up our wine. Beneath the table his leg brushes mine, warm and solid.

“Have you plans for New Year?” he asks, conversational.

“This year…no. We’re going back into the studio to record on the 30thright up until Christmas and then some time off over the holidays.”

Last year we were in London for a show, so we hung out at the hotel. The year before that we played a gig in Rome.

He nods, watching me. I want to kiss him so fucking badly. My skin feels tight and warm, my blood loud. I don’t remember the last time we’d spent this much time together and not fucked, or touched, or licked, or kissed. I don’t think we ever have, and maybe that’s important so I hold myself back.

“I am going to Tokyo with some friends. They have a boat—a big one—and there is a party on the water. Fireworks. Dancing. I do not know if you will know by then, but if you did. Or maybe even if you don’t.” He looks at me and drags a hand through his hair. “Maybe you’d like to spend it with me. You said you wanted to visit Japan, so maybe you could, with me.”

It’s said not like a question really, but like a suggestion. I’m not sure what look I have on my face, but it prompts him to say: “It is private. Only friends. No cameras, nothing like that. I would not be going otherwise. There is Disneyland too. Not on the boat, but in Tokyo city.” He adds this at the end with a small smile I can’t help but mirror.

Spend New Year’s with him. In Japan. Away from LA. Away from everyone who knows me. Whether I know what this is or not? He’s offering me that? To have something to go towards to work towards, to wait for. I still don’t know if he’s offering me anything more than that. More than a party on a boat in Tokyo, and maybe I should check, but how can I when I don’t know whether I’m even going to take it.You’re going to take it.

“That sounds…great.” I nod.

Beneath the table he curls his leg around mine. Smiles.

“I’d love to come.”

It doesn’t feel like a choice. Or if it is, I think I made it four nights ago when I came here. Or in that Paris bathroom. Any choice in which he’s an option, I’ll always choose him.

Jae nods, eyes looking full and warm and happy. Then he flounces back in his seat with a huge sigh, rubbing his stomach the way he does after eating. (Another habit is that to fall asleep he strokes one foot back and forth across the other.)

“So, after tonight, I won’t see you again until New Year’s, in Tokyo?”