Isaac kept his head low, but watched Beau up through his lashes as the man crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed. He kept a good foot of distance between them, but his weight still made the mattress dip towards him.
Isaac did not care.
Isaac’s brain felt like a tornado in a thunderstorm, and the only thing he wanted was to feel grounded.
If his plan to keep his distance from Beau had been written down on paper, those papers had flown out the window and were busy twisting and tearing in his mind’s storm. He would write it out again tomorrow, once the winds had calmed – but for now, he accepted that they were lost.
He let himself lean with the dip of the mattress, and paid close attention to how he felt when his shoulder collided with Beau’s. Yes. That was okay. He’d felt flighty and restless all afternoon, so the warmth and pressure of another person up against him was a welcome change.
It had been different before – sometimes he’d be so frazzled that a hand on his shoulder felt like flames biting at his skin and overwhelmed him further. But not today.
“Hey,” Beau suddenly spoke, his tone much firmer than Isaac expected. “That’s my favourite hoodie, don’t ruin it.”
Suddenly hands were encased around his own, and he realised his fingernails had been scratching and pulling at a thread on the cuff. “Eep, I’m sorry.”
But Beau laughed, and Isaac was relieved that he hadn’t caused any real damage. “Are your hands feeling fidgety too?” Beau asked as he adjusted his grip around Isaac’s hands. “How’s this? I keep playing with it today, maybe it’ll be satisfying for you too.”
Isaac’s eyebrows shot up when Beau led his hand up to the side of his head where Isaac had shaved the day before. He placed his fingers there, then pulled his hand away. Isaac’s eyes widened.
“Oh,” he mumbled, digging his fingertips into the fresh buzz cut. A little smile pursed the corners of his lips. “Oh no. That’s really fun.”
Beau laughed and titled his head forward so Isaac could run his fingers back and forth over the stubble, revelling in the way it prickled and vibrated against his skin.
When he started to calm down, Isaac had worried that the energy in the room would feel strange with just the two of them. After all, Beau had just confessed his attraction for Isaac the night before; wouldn’t it be on Beau’s mind? Wouldn’t he feel shy, or guilty, or determined to bring it up? But to his surprise, Beau had carried the conversation casually onwards, chattering and gossiping about everything and nothing in particular.
It almost felt like one of their old slumber parties, when Isaac’s parents would let him invite no more than two friends over for his birthdays in high school. Adelaide wouldn’t be allowed to stay the night, so it would just be him and Beau with their feet kicked up as they chatted about everything and nothing in particular.
When the conversation finally shifted to something more serious, they were both lying down with Beau on his back and Isaac on his stomach. He propped himself up on his elbows, as his fingers traced quick, mindless patterns into the fuzz on Beau’s temples.
“Can I ask you something?” Beau had asked, and Isaac nodded mindlessly. The tone of their conversation up until that point gave him no warning that it would be a serious question at all.
But then Beau paused, and his gaze shifted from the ceiling to look directly at his host.
“Why’d you invite me to stay on?”
Isaac paused. His brain stuttered, searching for context in his memories, as he forced his fingers to start stroking again so Beau wouldn’t pick up on his hesitation.
“Like, on the show?” he asked quietly.
Beau nodded, his eyes still fixed on him. Isaac was looking down at his own hands, but could feel Beau’s gaze in his periphery.
“Are you really surprised that I wanted to keep working with my mates?” he asked, in an attempt to dodge the question.
Beau pulled his lips into a half smile and shrugged. “It’s not that. This just seems like a huge opportunity, you know? They’ve given us so much funding. And I know this show is like your baby, so I just figured you’d want to give it all the love and attention possible.”
Isaac frowned at him and stilled his hands more purposefully, rerouting the energy used from stimming to help him verbalise his thoughts.
“You think my end goal is some big flashy hollywood production?” he asked, and Beau shrugged again.
Isaac shook his head. “The show is exactly where I dreamed it would be. I mean, it’s further than I initially dreamed it would be, and in front of way more people too. But you know what my favourite part is?”
Beau’s brow furrowed nervously and he shook his head in response.
“The fucking memes, dude. Us. We haven’t found a single ghost, but my favourite episodes are the ones where nothing happens. When we make each other laugh the hardest.”
Isaac was finally looking Beau in the face when he saw a sheen glisten over Beau’s eyes. He quickly blinked it away as he took a deep breath in.
“So… If you want to know why I invited you to stay, instead of swapping you out for a team of cameramen I’ve never met… It’s ‘cause of chemistry, mate. No one can do what we do. Not the way we do it. That’s the whole integrity of the show, for me.”
His hands relaxed where they sat against Beau’s head, and he lowered his gaze to them again. He flexed his fingers once more, running a fingertip along the soft edge of Beau’s hairline.
Beau stayed quiet, letting Isaac’s words settle in the air between them. It left Isaac’s mind free to wander, to where he stumbled immediately into an intrusive thought.
It was kinder than his usual intrusions. But it was an intruder nonetheless. Stroke further down, it whispered. He blinked slowly at where his finger traced his hairline, repeating the words in his head. Stroke his face.
So he did.
The pad of his index finger made one last swipe against his prickly buzz cut, then trailed over the top of his cheekbone, following the contour of his face, down to his jaw.
He was interrupted by Beau shifting on the bed and sitting up in front of him. Isaac’s eyes widened and he cursed himself, wondering how the fuck he had fallen so quickly from wanting to create distance between them to longing to get closer.
But Beau didn’t look smitten. He didn’t look mad, either. He just looked at Isaac with a small smile, but there was a glaze over his eyes like he was deep in thought.
“Thank you,” Beau murmured, but it felt curt. “You’re a huge sap, you know that? Wait till I use this against you and start asking for pay rises.”
He chuckled at Beau’s joke, but something pulled at him inside. Why were they joking?
All too soon, Beau was on the other side of the room. He clicked on the electric kettle, clinking fresh mugs down onto the counter with an offer of coffee. Isaac nodded, continuing to fight the frown that wanted to spread across his features.
If Beau liked him, and Isaac had just leant further into their relationship than he ever had before, then why was Beau pulling away?
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