Chapter Text
Gabriel and Colin had met in the hospital. The two of them quickly became close, close enough that after they were both released, they had moved into a small apartment together. Gabe mostly stayed at home, and Colin was fine with that. Colin was fine being the one making money; he understood that having a job could be too stressful for Gabe right now.
Gabe didn't like being at home while Colin worked; it made him feel like a leech. He wished he could find a job that wouldn't overwhelm him. He wanted to help; it's like the number one rule of dating: don't be a leech. He had tried applying for jobs before, going up to local shops and asking if they were hiring. Most places were, but very few even considered hiring him. The closest he ever got to getting a job was an interview that he completely flunked. Maybe calling the place you're applying to a shithole isn't exactly the right move.
The apartment was small enough that Gabe could hear the fridge humming from the couch. He spent most mornings on that same couch, flipping through job listings he already knew he wouldn’t apply to, or staring at the wall until the light shifted. Colin left early, kissing the top of Gabe’s head on his way out like it was nothing. Like it was normal. Gabe always pretended he was still half-asleep so he wouldn’t have to say anything back. Saying something felt like admitting how much he needed it.
When Colin got home, the whole place changed. He’d drop his bag by the door, kick off his boots, and immediately ask if Gabe had eaten. Most of the time the answer was no. Colin never got mad about it. He’d just start making something, usually whatever was cheapest and required the least amount of effort, and talk about his day in that sweet, steady voice that made everything sound less sharp. Gabe would sit at the little table and listen, picking at the food, trying not to think about how one-sided the whole arrangement felt.
Sometimes Colin would catch him spiraling and just sit next to him without saying anything. Their shoulders would touch. That was usually enough to stop the worst of it. Gabe still hated how much he needed that. He kept telling himself that one day he’d get it together, find something low-key, maybe stocking shelves at night or answering phones where he didn’t have to look anyone in the eye for too long. So far every attempt ended the same way: him walking out halfway through an application or freezing up when someone asked a normal question.
Last week he’d tried the coffee place down the street. The manager had been nice enough until Gabe started talking too fast and somehow ended up explaining why the whole concept of customer service was a scam. Colin had laughed when he told him about it later, which somehow made it both better and worse. Colin always laughed like that. Soft, like he wasn’t laughing at Gabe so much as at the situation. Like they were in on the same joke.
Gabe still felt like a burden most days. But when Colin came home, and the apartment stopped feeling so empty, it got a little easier to ignore. On days when Colin was off, the two of them would cuddle up on the couch and watch movies together. silently. Gabe wasn't really a big movie person, but he was a big Colin person. He liked listening to Colin talk about the movie afterwards.
It was nice that both of them hated it when people talked during movies. No interruptions. Just pure focus on the movie. If it was a particularly boring movie, Gabe would just make it less boring by cuddling up to Colin. Maybe lying in his lap, or kissing him until he paused it. Gabe would never outright tell Colin the movie was boring, but Colin could tell.
Colin never called him out on it. He’d just press pause, run a hand through Gabe’s hair, and ask if he wanted to switch to something else or if he was just bored of sitting still. Most of the time Gabe would shrug and stay where he was. The movie didn’t really matter. What mattered was the scent of Colin's cologne and the slow rise and fall of his chest. It was the only time Gabe could shut his brain up for longer than a few minutes without feeling like he was failing at something.
Sometimes the quiet got too quiet. Gabe would start thinking about the next day, about Colin leaving again, about the empty apartment and the job listings he still hadn’t touched. He’d shift a little, restless, and Colin would notice right away. He’d pause whatever was on and turn just enough to look at him.
“You good?”
Gabe always said yes. Even when he wasn’t. Especially when he wasn’t. Colin never pushed. He’d just wait a second longer than most people would, then press play again or suggest they order food or go for a walk if the weather wasn’t terrible. Gabe preferred the couch. Outside meant other people, and other people meant questions or looks or the chance that something would go wrong and he’d ruin the whole day.
Still, there were moments where it almost felt normal. Colin would get up halfway through a movie to grab drinks or dig through the fridge, and Gabe would watch him move around the apartment like he belonged there. Like this was just their life. Black nail polish, messy hair, the same hoodie he wore three days in a row. Gabe would feel that familiar twist in his stomach. Half guilt, half something soft, and then Colin would come back and settle in next to him again, and the twist would loosen a little.
Gabriel never said any of that out loud. He just stayed close, let Colin pick the next movie, and tried not to think too hard about how much he needed these days to get through the ones where Colin had to leave.