The Artists Secret

That Sushi Place is pretty much a Friday night tradition for Blake and I. We order a lot of sushi and rent a movie and just unwind from the rigorous week of college life. Friday's are set aside for just hanging out. Best friend time. I know it sounds unbelievably gay but hey, we're two gay men who really are best friends. If we want to do facials and paint each other's nails then we will. Only we don't do that because, yeah, we're gay men.

"Why hasn't he made my card yet?!" I groan, laying my head down on top of the counter.

"Maybe he just doesn't want you to see it so he's doing it I secret?" Kia suggests. "He could be working on it right now for all you know."

Kia is a psychology major at the college Blake and I go to. She's been one of our close friends right from he beginning and her family just so happens to own That Sushi Place, which means huge discounts for us. That's probably another reason we eat here a lot. Plus, the California rolls here are unbeatable. 

I frown, considering her suggestion. "That's never how it usually is. He usually doesn't care if I'm there or not, he'll draw it either way."

"Maybe this year is different?"

"Why would this year be any different?" I question. "Unless this is the year he finally forgot about me."

"Stop it Robbie." Kia says firmly. "You aren't being fair to him or yourself."

"I know, I just- I really really like him. What if he doesn't like me back? Or what if he did but doesn't anymore and I missed my chance?" I whine. 

There. Are you happy? I admitted it. I admitted that I have a huge fucking crush on Blake. I might even be in love with him. He's just smart and funny and quirky and cute and perfect. He's the one everyone loves to know, the one you call if you want to have a good time without any 'substances' to help you. Why in the world would he want to date a quiet, shy, overly sensitive bookworm? 

She gives me a sympathetic look but sighs. "Look, I don't think Blake forgot about you in the slightest. In fact, I know he hasn't. But- maybe you should take things into your own hands and ask him out for valentines day. You've been crushing on him pretty much since the day you met him, right? Either he's the most clueless person in the face of the planet or he's too nervous to ask you out first."

"Kia, I can't. Blake, he's- special. You know? I don't want to take the chance that he doesn't like me back and ruin that bond we have." I run my hands over my face and groan. 

"You've gotta take the chance. What's life without a little risk?"

"It's safe and secure. What's so bad about that?"

Kia gives me a look and hands my bags to me over the counter. "I think you know the answer to that."

I look at her for a few seconds. I know exactly what she means. God damn- but I just can't. "Kia, you're going to be an amazing psychologist."

"Thank you." She says softly. "That means a lot."

"Yeah yeah," I think I must tell her that every time I see her. "I've seen your card by the way. It's amazing. You'll really love it."

Her eyes light up and a smile spreads across her face. "Tell Blake I say hi!" She calls as I leave.

I think about taking the long way home but it's cold and windy today and there are so many shops selling gifts for the 'holiday' coming in a few days. It depresses me, so I'm in front of our door in five minutes.

I turn the key in the front door and push it open noiselessly. The house is quiet save for the soft melody of Vivaldi's longest symphony. That's Blake's painting music. I head to the kitchen, deciding not to disturb him. I love watching his face when he's painting but I don't know if I'm in the right emotional state for that. 

I set the sushi in the fridge and plop down on the couch to wait, flipping open my book and delving into the story. Not ten minutes later, Blake's door opens and he appears with used paintbrushes in one hand and a cup of muddled water in the other. The fumes hit me next.

"Blake, haven't we talked about you ventilating your room when you paint? You could honestly die."

He jumps about a mile in the air, causing the water in his cup to slosh over the edge. Blake looks up with wide eyes and relaxes considerably when he sees me. "Oh fuck, Robbie. You scared the fuck outta me."

"I noticed." I laugh, marking my place and standing to help him. 

"When did you even get home?" He asks, regaining control of his breathing. 

"Ten minutes ago." I shrug, grabbing a towel and sopping up the water from the carpet.

"You should have come gotten me." He shakes his head and makes his way to the kitchen to rinse his brushes. 

"I can be patient." 

I hear him mumble something under his breath that he's too far away for me to hear. Blake grabs the sushi out of the fridge and a couple packs of disposable chopsticks that we keep on hand, and I pour us some ice tea and we meet up in the living room. The coffee table is quickly taken over by food, wrappers, and the drinks. 

Blake lets me pick out the movie and we eat in silence, both deep in thought. It's not an uncomfortable silence. That's another thing I love about being around him. I never feel uncomfortable in the least. He's a perfect gentleman and an awesome friend. 

He lets out a sigh and leans back, draping his arm over the couch behind me. It's a casual movement and one that I'm used to. He never goes so far as to put his arm around my shoulders and he never minds when I lean into him. Best friend stuff, you know? 

This time, though, I lay my head on his shoulder and wrap an arm around his middle, pulling my feet under me. He seems surprised for a second but then he smiles and pulls me closer. 

This is what I want for us. The cuddling and intimacy and ease. Not the uncertainty that I feel. Uncertainty not about my feelings, but about his. I just really need to know if his feelings for me mirror mine for him.