“Let’s see how you like it if I put my finger under your chin and tell you things.” Simon maneuvers Charlie’s chin in the least romantic way possible, then gets distracted by the need to paw at Charlie’s beard a little. “I just want you to have a good birthday,” he says, right before Charlie kisses him. Just a little kiss, because they’re in the street. “And a good, you know, everything.”
When they continue walking, somehow Simon’s holding Charlie’s hand.
“What about this one?” Simon traces a finger over the lizard on Charlie’s forearm. They’re in Simon’s pool, Charlie on a float, Simon attempting to do laps but mostly cataloging Charlie’s tattoos.
“It’s supposed to be a dragon, but I was sixteen and a little high.”
Simon needs not to think about Charlie, sixteen and high, tattooing himself, or he’s going to start hyperventilating. There’s an actual dragon—professional, unmistakable—on Charlie’s thigh, and Simon takes the opportunity to give it a squeeze.
This might be the first time he’s seen it in broad daylight at a distance of less than six inches. “Is that the dragon fromTree of the Gods?”
“Yup.”
The float starts to drift away, so Simon hauls it back. “I didn’t realize you were a fan.”
“I used to watch it every Sunday night, on Dave’s old couch. He always had all the streaming services.”
Simon still isn’t capable of hearing about Dave without wanting to snarl, but Dave is returning Charlie’s texts almost immediately, which is at least something. Simon can feel at peace with Dave’s continued existence, because there he is, an object lesson in what happens when you push people away. Dave, Simon’s patron saint of isolation.
“And then a few years later I was on the same show as you,” Charlie goes on.
Simon ducks under the water for a minute, wanting to sink lower, into the bedrock, into the Earth’s molten core. “And I was an asshole,” he says when he has to come up for air.
“You werequeer. It blew my whole mind. I mean, yes, sure, you were a dick.” Charlie sighs happily. “Bitchy and hot and good at your job. Nothing not to like.”
Simon’s face must be doing something against his will, because Charlie shoves him with his foot. The float goes sailing toward the other end of the pool. “I mean, I wasn’t in love with you or anything. I wasn’t pining. I have feelings for a lot of people, fuck off.”
It’s easy to imagine Charlie with half a dozen simultaneous crushes. Charlie’s heart is expansive, generous.
Simon paddles over and drags the float back to the shady half of the pool. “I don’t. I mean, I don’t have feelings for a lot of people. I try not to. I’ve known for a couple years that I like all this...” He gestures at Charlie’s body, his face. “But anything more? That wasn’t until Phoenix, I think.”
“I call bullshit,” Charlie says, sliding off the raft and landing next to Simon, shoulder deep in the water. “It was before that.”
Simon should have kept his mouth shut. “Not really.”
“You don’t let anyone drive you anywhere,” Charlie goes on. “Jamie says you only got into his car a year ago. You barely use rideshares.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Simon asks, baffled. “Jamie’s a terrible driver. I’ve never seen him use a turn signal. You should see him try to park in the Trader Joe’s lot. Mayhem.”
“You’ve been letting me chauffeur you around for years.”
“You kept kidnapping me!”
“Simon.” Charlie’s hands are on Simon’s hips, so Simon can’t even swim away. “All I’m saying is that even when you didn’t like me, some part of you knew better.”
It’s sweet, probably, that Charlie thinks there’s a secret part ofSimon’s brain that knows what’s going on. Simon’s well aware that his brain is three unreliable narrators stacked in a trench coat.
“But I don’t give a shit, except for how I like when you’re wrong and I’m right,” Charlie goes on. “I don’t care if you figured it out last month, as long as you did figure it out. So you can stop arguing with me.”
“You’re the only person in this pool arguing.”
“I can see you arguing in your head.”
“That’s called thinking,” Simon says, defaulting to bitchy without even meaning to.
Charlie gets Simon backed up against the side of the pool, kissing him, shutting him up in the most efficient way.
“I did figure it out,” Simon says, his lips moving against Charlie’s.
