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“Yeah?”
“She asked me how I felt when I looked at you, and it was weird because normally that question might freak me out or make me implode, especially since I know I majorly screwed things up. But still, the answer was so easy, I just blurted it right at her.” He took several slow breaths.
Dylan’s body practically vibrated. “Are you going to fucking tell me?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do, jackass? I thought about finding a marching band for this moment just because it would probably make you shut up and listen to me, but—”
“You don’t think I’m worth a grand movie gesture?” Dylan stood to face Derek.
Derek grabbed hold of his shoulders. “I think you deserve everything, Dylan.”
Dylan’s breaths quaked in his chest.
“I’ll start with raw honesty.” Derek cradled Dylan’s wet face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away tears. “First of all, I love your perfect house because it’s you. Everything in it is you and your hard work and your amazing skill and patience. I love that you can lose yourself in things because you have these talents you feel so strong and passionate about. I love that we keep each other on our toes, and we have different strengths and interests but there has never been one single moment with you when I’ve been bored. You make me laugh. I’ve never—not for a second—thought you were broken or needed to be fixed. Even when I thought I hated you, somehow we just fit. We’ve always fit.”
Dylan could only nod.
“There was never anyone else who made me feel this way, and there could not be anyone else. I’m so sorry if I made you feel otherwise by making that really bad choice about keeping my history from you, but what you said about competing—t-there’s…” Derek’s voice cracked.
“There’s…?”
Derek took in a deep breath. “Dylan Gallagher, every single time I look at you all I feel is stupid, lovesick, radiant joy.”
Several moments passed. Nothing existed except the little space left between them and the very tangible something filling both pairs of eyes.
“K-kay,” Dylan said in a splutter.
“Kay?” Derek released Dylan’s face. “I bust out stupid, lovesick, radiant joy. And you give me kay? A single letter.”
“Or three, depending on how you look at it.” Dylan’s face crumpled. He sat down on the cobblestone and looked out on the garden below in absolute stillness. No fidgeting. No shifting his weight except to lean against the bench behind him. Derek rested a fist on a patio pillar.
“I have to know what you’re thinking, Dylan.”
“I’m sorry for the kay. It’s just that I’m—I’m—I’m… Christ, Derek, you come here with th-this beautiful declaration, this poetry, and I love you so much that honestly when you first showed up I was terrified I was just hallucinating you because I’ve missed you so much over the last few weeks it feels like an actual organ is missing from my body. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Because it’s fucking awful.” He patted the place on his chest where most of the hurt collected when he tried to sleep in a bed that felt too big. “I hate it.”
“You hate it?”
“Goddamn right I hate it.” He stormed down the couple steps to the garden and paced in front of one of the newly cleared-out beds.
“Alright.”
Dylan scraped his fingers into his scalp. “It feels like everything is completely out of control. I thought if I could get home, I’d feel better, but no. Derek goddamn Chang is in my brain forever, and I didn’t know how to get him out.” He braced his forehead on his open palms.
“So what do you want, Dylan?”
“Want? I want you here. I want you and all your shit. Your DVD collection and the romance novels you’re embarrassed about—they aren’t fucking Olive’s, Derek.” He gave Derek a pointed look at then continued to pace. “When you were describing your perfect life in your perfect house, can’t you see that it’s here with me?” He had to take a couple more breaths before he could finish. “Don’t you see that this place is perfect for us? It’s perfect for you because I’m perfect for you. We’re so perfect together, and it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing makes any sense. Isn’t it just way too soon to be thinking about this? I’m scaring you off, aren’t I?”
Derek stopped Dylan’s pacing by pulling him close. He let the pressure slow Dylan’s anxious shaking before he slanted his perfect mouth over Dylan’s trembling one. When they parted, Derek took a step away but didn’t let go. For the first time during this conversation, a ghost of that obnoxiously cocky smile Dylan fell in love with was back on that obnoxiously hot face.
“Let’s try this again. One more time.” Derek nodded as if he were helping Dylan cram for a pop quiz. “Dylan Gallagher, what do you feel when you look at me?”
“Stupid, lovesick, radiant joy.”
The cockiness vanished. Derek’s eyebrows scrunched together, and then he covered his face. His shoulders shook, but he managed to get out one stuttered syllable. “Kay.”
Epilogue
Derek handed his best friend another set of tissues. In her defense, her dress didn’t have pockets, and his jacket did.