Chapter Text
He and Collie had been together since that night on New Year's. They weren't exactly going steady; it had been quite rocky, actually, but they were something you could actually put a label on now. Collie would sometimes call him his boyfriend, which always left Gary furiously blushing and punching at him. He still couldn't get himself say it out loud, the word still stuck behind his teeth. Even after that night, when he was drunk and open to the softness, it had been a fight to keep it up. But Collie understands, he's sure he does.
Gary doesn't know how he lucked out so badly.
Collie was so confusingly good to him. Doesn't get mad at him when he just—can't. Would hold him in bed when he cried from the guilt, wouldn't bring it up in the morning because he knew Gary would die of shame. Knew how nervous he was to his hand in front of the others, had whispered how proud he was when he limply clutched back. "I know you're trying," he'd say, and Gary was. He really was. He'd been more doted on than he'd been his entire life, was so warm and gooey all the time, and as embarrassing as it was, Barkovitch doesn't remember a time when he was this giddy.
It was the morning of the 14th now, February 14th. Inconsequential day of the week. He was sprawled out on Collie's bed, waiting for him to finish showering. He listened to the water hitting the tile, imagining how it looked running down his shoulders. Mmm.
When he got out (towel hanging way lower than it needed to—oh fuck you, Parker) He pet Gary's head that had been smushed against one of his pillows. "You got anything planned today, baby?"
"Nope," said Gary, eyeing the muscles of Collie's back as he pulled a black tee over his head. He didn't have any classes today. Well, important classes.
Gary felt the bed dip under him and a warm chest pressing into his back. "You good to come out with me then?"
"Come out?" Is this man actually trying to take him out for Valentine's Day? "For what?"
Collie chuckled into his neck. "Oh, nothing in particular."
Fuck. He called Pete and Harkness fags like ten times in the days leading up to this mushy heart bullshit.
"You're not making me celebrate this gay ass holiday, Parker."
"Oh, I'd never." Barkovitch could feel the smile on his back. "Just been crammed in here for fucking days, I'm bored."
Gary wasn't convinced. Collie could tell. "Can a man not want to spend a day with his boyfriend?" He almost sang the dreaded word, coming real close to his ear.
"God, get off me, you fag—" Barkovitch was batting him away, Collie now nipping at his shoulders and wrapping his arms around his middle. "—You aren't helping your fucking case—Collie!" His stupid, strong arms pulled them up, crashing back against the mattress, trapping Gary against his chest. Barkovitch kicked at his feet, not putting up much of a fight. Maybe he didn't hate being trapped. What-fucking-ever.
Eventually, Gary stilled again, letting Collie hold him, hands going up and down his sides. "Didn't get my answer."
Gary rolled his eyes as he craned his neck back to face him.
"Fine."
He threw a pillow at Collie, trying to smother that stupid smile off his face.
—
Outside was freezing. Gary swaddled himself in his thick jacket, still trembling against the chill of the winter air. Collie was rubbing his hands together, twitching at strands of hair blown against his neck. He'd put half his hair up to avoid this problem, but the rest of the dark locks just did not want to cooperate. They had been idly walking around town, Collie letting Gary lead the way. He secretly loved window shopping, would look forward to going to the market with Meemaw when he was young and fantasise about all the lovely random things he'd buy. They had roamed a few stores now, and Gary was having a time and a half. They went into one of those fancier stores, serif font for the store logo, with frankly boring-looking clothes, and gawked at the outrageous price tags. Collie had asked why he was even in here, knowing damn well he didn't even wear clothes like that, and Barkovitch promptly informed him on the beauty of judging shit you'd never in your life buy, let alone afford: "The least you could do to rich people is judge the shitty stuff they buy."
They went to a few more clothing stores, before stopping at a shop with an old lady at the register, store filled with curtains and carpets alike. There was barely room for the two of them, but Gary was thoroughly entertained by all the tassels and gaudy embroidery patterns. There was a connected second-hand store, and Collie seemed to enjoy that the most. They were both looking through the assortment of random trinkets, turning to each other to show off each new find. After ten minutes of exploring, Collie tapped on his shoulder.
"Babe," Gary's chest still fluttered at that sometimes. "Look what I found,"
When he looks down, there's a little figurine, paint shining under the warm overhead lamp, two small cats, one grey, one calico, cuddled up together, tails swirled on the platform they were perched on. It was adorable. Reminded him of those small collectables that used to be on display cases and vanities back home.
"Ain't that fucking sweet?" the blonde ran his finger up the cool ceramic, feeling the grooves of the paint between the grooves of fur. He absentmindedly cooed at the tiny things, itching at the whiskers and backs of their ears. Collie sighed out a chuckle from above him. Gary thinks he heard the word cute from under his breath. He chose to ignore that.
By the time they reach the counter, there are 3 rings, one leather belt, a worn-out flannel that Barkovitch swears he has plans for and a small kitty figurine.
Once they pay and leave, they find their way to a cafe, where Collie goes in to find them something warm. He returns with 2 steaming cups, and the most obnoxiously Valentine's pastry he's ever seen. It was dyed pink, swirled with red jam, and its packaging was littered with hearts and corny conversation hearts.
"What the fuck did you buy?"
"A danish," he had the most shit-eating grin on his face as he handed the paper bag to him. "For you."
Gary snatched the stupid thing and glared at him."I hate you."
The taller man ruffled his hair as he began nibbling at it. "No you don't."
It was, unfortunately, really fucking good, and Gary finished his half (he broke off a piece and all but forced it into Collie's mouth) and quickly threw away the festive bag, which was burning into his hands. The hot coffee warmed his palms, body shuddering in relief. That was also pretty damn good, and Collie seemed to agree.
As they continued their wandering, Collie tapped on his shoulder, directing his attention to a shop sign. 'DOUBLE LOBE PIERCINGS FOR $30', it read in white and light blue chalk.
"Your ears aren't pierced, right?"
"Nope. Holy virgin ears over here." He popped the p on the 'Nope' already seeing where this conversation was going.
"Trying to have them match the rest of you?"
"Shut the fuck up."
Collie nudged him with his elbow. "Come on, live a little, you thought that one guy at the bar was so cool,"
"Stop making me sound like a fucking fanboy!"
Barkovitch was then getting dragged across the street, sat in a too-cold leather high chair, and hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Collie was wandering the small tattoo parlour while they waited, checking out the case of jewellery they had on display.
The woman who was going to stick a pin in his ear was talking about something, trying to make small talk, but Gary really just wanted to get this shit over with. It's not that he didn't want to—he was actually pretty excited, but the longer this took, the longer he had to get in his head about it and change his mind. No way he was letting that happen—he was going home with holes in his lobes today. He was unfucking his ears. Or would it be fucking them? Whatever.
By the time the girl was ready, Parker had drifted his way back, standing next to him, watching the piercer shift towards Gary. He passed something to her before resting his hand on the back of the chair.
"You scared?"
Gary shook his head. "Ain't no pussy."
"Not expecting tears then," interjected the piercer, marking the lobe. "This good?"
Barkovitch looked up to Collie rather than the mirror held up to his face, subconsciously waiting for his approval. The standing man crossed his arms as he squinted at the matching markers, eyes darting between the two. Barkovitch only gave the okay once he got the nod from Parker.
The first was quick, him only slightly wincing at the pinch of the needle, but it did take a hard squeeze of his shoulder to brace himself for the second. He now knows what Collie had passed the lady, a pair of black star studs, which he presumably just bought.
"You like them?"
Gary smiled at the things. They were really pretty, the type of thing he would've never gotten to wear a year ago. "Uh-huh."
The whole ordeal passed rather quickly, and now Gary had ears, tingly and red from both the bite of the air and the new holes, with stars adorning them.
They wandered for another couple of hours, the small bag Barkovitch had brought stuffed full and a camera full of new material. Next to the camera was a little bound book that was burning a hole in the lining of his bag. It had been doing so for a few days, probably a few weeks now, but Gary hadn't had the guts to take it out yet.
It was around 4ish now—minutes to 5 maybe? 4:37, the small analogue clock on the back wall of the diner answered. They were finally getting a proper meal in them after dicking around for the last however many hours.
"What do you want?"
"Fries and the second one," he pointed up to one of the burger options on the written menu board.
Collie scrunched up his face. "That one looks boring but okay."
"Fuck're you judging my order for? What are you getting?"
"That one." It was some complicated ass burger, number eight, shit had caramelised onions. "Who the fuck are you? Fuck do you need so much shit on ur burger for?"
"It's like six things!"
"Yeah, exactly."
"You're just mad mine sounds better."
"Doesn't though. "
"Keep your boring ass burger then, jackass."
"I fuckin' will, thanks."
Once their food came, they sat across from each other in a booth near the back. Gary was shovelling down the basket of fries. He ended up finding his burger just okay, and he was kinda pissed cuz Collie's did look better.
Collie caught him eyeing his food, the most annoyingly smug grin on his face as he took another bite of his stupid million-ingredient, really good-looking burger.
"What's the matter, Barkovitch?"
"You're not making me say it."
Collie laughed as he brought the sandwich to his lips, letting him take the bite he so clearly wanted and fuck him and his caramelised onions, the thing was fucking great.
The two kept eating (Gary occasionally opening his mouth so Collie could let him steal more of his food), and Barkovitch lost himself in thought, staring at the apples on that wall clock. He broke out of his thoughtlessness when he felt fingers ghosting over his. He tensed, still a knee-jerk reaction, but he exhaled shakily, letting his hand rest, and fingers intertwine with his.
He looked back at the other man, who had a small, smitten smile on his face, eyes placed on him, unwavering. Gary had to shove more fries in his mouth before he said something mortifying.
—
It was around six when they finally got back on campus. The ride home was uneventful, and the pair had held a comfortable silence on the bus. Collie's arm was snug around Gary's shoulder, his eyes closed, resting against the window. Barkovitch thought he'd fallen asleep, but every few minutes fingers ran through his hair, reminding him of his presence.
Once back in Collie's empty dorm, Gary peeled the jacket off his back, pleased with the weight now off his limbs. Collie had sat himself on his bed, ponytail taken down, and palms bracing him up. He sighed as he threw his head back, clearly grateful to be back home.
Gary felt a bit guilty. Despite Parker's lies about today not being a Valentine's date, which it definitely was, the fucker—Collie had doted on him all day. The stars in his ears seemed to tingle on command at the thought. He didn't have a planned gift to give him. Barkovitch clutched the strap of his bag again. Well, technically, he did, but would it be weird to give it now? No right?
Before he could keep dwelling on his mind, he was distracted by a groan coming from the bed in front of him. His boyfriend was stretching, his arms crossed over his head, his shirt riding up, slightly exposing his happy trail. Gary's dick twitched.
He slowly inched towards Collie's place on the bed, slinking down to the carpeted floor beneath his feet. Collie raised his head to look down at Gary, who was now resting his head against his clothed thigh. "What are you doing?"
Gary slunk further in between the man's legs. "Trying to say thank you,"
"Baby, you don't have to—"
"Just let me suck you off Parker, oh fuck." Gary curtly responded.
Collie laughed as he shook his head, undoing his belt and eyeing Barkovitch as he brought his face closer to his crotch. He still had his hair pulled back, and his crossbody still draped over him. Once getting his jeans open, the blonde made quick work of getting his hands on his dick, feeling it get harder with each stroke.
He got lost in the rhythm of his hand, watching intently from his place on the ground, until he was grabbed up by his hair and led to the cock in front of him.
"Enough playing. Say ahh,"
Asshole.
Barkovitch listened dutifully, opening his mouth, letting him be fed his dick, inch by inch. He immediately got to work once that heavy weight sat in his mouth, revelling in the taste of pre against his tongue. He was stroking the length he hadn't gotten to swallow yet, bobbing in time with the movement of his palms.
He pulled off for a moment, licking and suckling at the tip, eyes gleaming as the man above him sucked in a breath at the stimulation. He continued teasing for a few moments longer until he was being yanked back down by his bag strap, leather digging into the back of his neck as he gagged and whimpered at the sudden intrusion.
Collie whispered out an apology at his pitiful noise, petting at his flaxen locks as he sucked.
"So good, pup, always making me feel good, right?"
Gary hummed in agreement, feeling Collie's thighs shake at the vibrations sent up his dick.
See, by now Barkovitch had sucked Collie's dick a lot, dozens of times. The first few times, he thought, eventually, somehow, the novelty would wear off and he'd suddenly not like it anymore. That moment never came. If anything, he enjoyed it more, and he was getting to his favourite part. Collie was really unravelling now, twitching in his mouth, and the thighs bracketing his head were tensing every time his nose brushed his stomach. He was whimpering out Gary's name, broken moans and praise running out of him like a burst pipe, pre cum leaking out of him at the same rate, hot and ready for Barkovitch to lap up.
"Great fucking gift, baby, fuck—" Shit, the gift—it was still somewhere tossed around in his bag. Gary leaned back into Collie's hand, not-so-subtly letting him know he was free to take the reins. He needed to do some crisis assessment.
Should he even given him the gift? He might think it's weird, creepy. His eyes fluttered back as Collie kept thrusting into his warm mouth. He'd been working on it for ages, was supposed to give it to him weeks ago, but he always ended up pussying out, freaking out, and adding to it. He whined in frustration, and the man in front of him suddenly got a whole lot louder, frantically muttering something under his breath. Fuck, what if he thought it was totally weird and stalkerish— Mmmghk?!
Cum hit the back of his throat, cock in his mouth twitching, and Collie groaning above him with hand tugging on the leather strap to keep him down. Whatever thoughts he had were overtaken by the need to lap up the last of his spend, holding onto Collie's muscular, trembling thighs.
When Gary fully pulled off, tucking him back into his pants, he took in Collie's appearance, chest heaving, eyes pressed shut and loose hair framing his face. Barkovitch would've been content to sit there and admire him, but he was struck by an idea. Couldn't force him into the awkward pregift preamble if he just caught him off gaurd right?
He practically tore open the leather bag (whose strap most definitely left a red mark on his neck) and quickly shoved the small leather-bound book into Collie's lap.
"What?" said Parker, finally coming back to his senses and swiping his hair past his shoulders. He blinked up at the man, still on the ground and hiding his face in the meat of his legs.
He heard Collie flip through the pages, hearing the metal rings clink against the plastic cards.
"This for me?" His voice sounded small to Gary's ears, uncharacteristically so. He shook his head yes into the denim of his thigh. Collie reached downward, wrapping a hand around his waist and hoisting him up from the floor. He sat him next to him, clearly wanting Gary to go through it with him.
There were pages upon pages of photographs, some of which he had openly told Gary he liked, some of Collie, a lot of Collie, an embarrassing amount of Collie—
He stopped at one closer to the beginning, face softening more than the blonde thought possible. It was the one he had taken of him last fall, with the morning sun falling on him, tanned skin glowing in the warmth. He wondered if Collie recognised where it was from.
The silence was starting to weigh on his chest, so he broke it, "I was supposed to give it to you ages ago." Collie's hand was hugging him tighter. "But I guess now works."
Parker gently placed the booklet beside him on the bed before pulling the blonde into his arms. "You better hope I never tell people how fucking sweet you are," he whispered into his hair, dragging them further onto the bed, lying flat on his back.
Barkovitch braced up on his boyfriend's chest, leaning over to be face-to-face. "You like it?" Collie held his face by the jaw, peppering kisses all over his face until Gary was scrunching his face in protest. "Love it."
Barkovitch barely had time to smile back before Collie's mouth was on him again, kisses turning hungry and feverish, hands roaming under his shirt and squeezing his waist—
"Whoever's in here, I'm giving you thirty seconds to get your clothes back on and out of any compromising position neither of us wants to see."
Fuck.
They reluctantly pulled apart, Collie kissing Gary's hip before he pulled down his rucked-up shirt. "Thanks for my gift, baby."
Gary smiled down at him. "Thanks for my Valentine's date, fuckin' liar."
Their collective laughter was rudely interrupted by Stebbins banging down the door again, palms hitting the wood with a distinct boom.
"I'm fuckin' leaving, asshole, calm down!" shouted Barkovitch, swinging his bag around his neck and waving Collie goodbye. He brushed past the stone-faced blonde waiting outside as he left, flipping him off as he overheard him huff out a 'finally'.
Before heading upstairs, he went down to their mailboxes, realising he hadn't emptied his since Christmas. When he fiddled with the faulty lock of the square locker door within the rows of boxes, he was met with an assortment of envelopes.
He began sorting through them as he went up the steps: holiday greetings from Aunt Bridget, a card from his rich uncle up north with a few 100 dollar notes (sucking up to him when he was small paid off big time), another from Aunt and Uncle Jones, and a plain-looking envelope from Meemaw.
The last one was confusing. She sends out all her cards by Christmas, and her holiday cards definitely wouldn't be this…regular. He tore open the envelope, revealing a letter.
Dear Gary,
First Christmas without you! Aunty Marge and her girls came and visited this year, real shame you missed them. How is the weather treating you over there? I heard Maine winters can be right awful—please dress appropriately and not just those tees you like wearing all year. I hope you're wearing that damn scarf I had Linda get you from upstate, it was a pain for her to get it, you know shes terrible with choices.
Anyway, Surprise! Your uncle will be driving me down to Maine the week of your birthday, and we should be reaching on the 31st (of March of course). I'd stay for ages if I could, but he'll be back for me by the 6th of April. I asked him to let me stay longer, but he gave me an awful lecture on wasting away my pension. What else is it for if not to spend more time with my grandson? Hopefully the cold clears up by your birthday—I'm sure you can handle it put your poor Meemaw sure can't! You'll have to tell me all the things to see while I'm up north, and a good place for us to get you a birthday milkshake, yeah?
Can't wait to see you in a few months, Gary. The separation is starting to take a toll on your old lady!
Lots of Love,
Meemaw
…
He stood frozen in the stairway of his home of the last six months, sharply swallowing as he reread the cursive letters. His mouth felt dirty now.