I'll Go

“Hey, Kells, I’ve got a big favor to ask of you.”

Kellin automatically raises one eyebrow skeptically, even though Vic won’t be able to see it over the phone. “And what would that be?”

Vic takes a deep breath before answering all in a rush: “So my house is being renovated, right, starting next week, and obviously it’s gonna be a really big project, and they said that if I’m lucky it’ll only take, like, a month, but it’s more realistic to think that it could be anywhere from two to six months, and I don’t really have anywhere else to go during that time and you’re my friend and I know you’ve got your kid and everything to deal with, but could I possibly maybe stay with you while the renovation’s going on? You don’t have to answer right now, you can think about it for a couple days, but…yeah.”

Kellin hesitates, running the circumstances over in his head. On the one hand, he’s got a baby to deal with. On the other, well, he’s got a baby to deal with. So, yes, it might be inconvenient to have Vic staying with him, but if Vic has any experience with parenting (and even if he doesn’t), then it might also be helpful.

“If you really don’t have anywhere else to go,” he says slowly, though deep down he knows he’s going to say “yes.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty much my only option,” Vic replies. “With anyone else, they either live super far away or it’d just be really inconvenient. I mean, it’d be really inconvenient anyway no matter who I stay with, but I was hoping I’d be able to find someone so I didn’t have to pay for a rental or a hotel or something—”

“No, I totally understand,” Kellin interrupts. “Don’t worry, dude, you can stay. But I hope you know that now you’re going to be Tyson’s temporary second dad. Congratulations.”

“Holy shit, thank you,” Vic says. “Wait, what?”

—

That’s how Vic Fuentes comes to be living with Kellin—temporarily, obviously. Kellin’s place is nice but kind of small, an apartment with only two bedrooms: Kellin’s and the nursery for his eight-month-old son, Tyson. There’s a decent-sized living room, a dining room area sort of connected to it, and a kitchen right behind the dining room, with the bathroom down the hall with the bedrooms. Kellin tells Vic that he can sleep wherever—on the couch, on the floor somewhere, in the bathtub; he really doesn’t care.

He has to admit, having another human being in his company (one his own age, at least) kind of excites him in a weird way. He has friends, of course, but he knows he hasn’t been the best at keeping in contact with people these past few months, putting everything he has into taking care of his son. Really, the only person he actively talks to other than Vic is Tyson’s babysitter, Lynn, who has been encouraging him to branch out a bit more. He’s not quite sure yet, though.

Kellin met Vic a few years ago, when they were roommates in college. Kellin tries not to think too much about what they did back then because it’s all over now—it was over the moment Kellin met his wife, Ellie—but now that Ellie is gone and they’re living together again, it all feels sort of familiar (minus the kid). He can’t help but wonder if Vic is remembering any of that, too, but there’s no way in hell that he’s going to ask.

Vic doesn’t seem to know what to do around Tyson, who mostly just clings to Kellin and cries whenever he walks more than three feet away from him. Now Kellin is in the kitchen getting baby food while Vic awkwardly tries to shush Tyson, who is sitting in his high chair next to the dining room table. “Why does he do that?” he calls over the noise.

“I don’t think I socialize him as much as I should,” Kellin calls back, sighing in frustration. “The only people he sees on a regular basis are me and Lynn, and if neither of us are around, he loses it.”

“Huh,” Vic says, leaning down and looking at Tyson, who has calmed down slightly at the sight of Vic. “Hey, it’s okay, Tyson! Daddy’ll be right back!”

Tyson momentarily stops crying and reaches out, clamping his tiny fingers around Vic’s long hair and pulling roughly. “Ow!” Vic yelps. Tyson just pulls harder, now giggling a little bit.

“Shit,” Kellin mutters, rushing back over to the dining room with the baby food containers in his hands. “I forgot to tell you—his favorite thing to do now is pull on people’s hair.”

“I see,” Vic replies through gritted teeth.

Kellin sets the containers down and hurriedly scolds Tyson, working to get him to release Vic from his death grip. “Sorry,” Kellin says when Vic is finally free and fixing his hair like it’s the most precious thing in the universe. Kellin really shouldn’t laugh, but he can’t help it.

“Hey,” Vic says indignantly, flipping him off. “You’d be doing the same thing, asshole. Don’t you have a baby to feed?”

Tyson makes a few noises of agreement, though he can’t understand a word of what Vic’s saying. Kellin rolls his eyes and turns back to his son. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting there. Calm down.” He waves his hand at Vic. “You can go do something else now if you want. You don’t have to, like, supervise us.”

“I kind of want to,” Vic says slowly, shrugging. “I don’t know. It’s cute. I like kids.”

“Good, ‘cause you’ll be living with one for the next few months,” Kellin says as he opens up the first container of baby food and starts to feed Tyson. “So you’d better get used to it.”

—

The first night that Vic stays over, Kellin wakes up at around two in the morning to the baby crying. This isn’t anything new, but perhaps he should have warned Vic. Then again, Vic should’ve known that this would happen when he decided to sleep in a place with an eight-month-old.

After a few short moments of savoring his bed, Kellin pulls himself to his feet and heads across the hall to the nursery, rubbing his eyes before he picks Tyson up out of his crib. Holding him close, Kellin gently pats his back, slightly rocking back and forth and shushing him softly. “Shh, it’s okay, Daddy’s here, shh…”

A few seconds later, Kellin hears footsteps, and then Vic sort of stumbles into the room—he must’ve heard Tyson from where he was sleeping out on the couch. “Sorry,” Kellin whispers. “He’s a baby. He cries a lot.”

“I can take care of it,” Vic says, surprising Kellin. “You’ve got work tomorrow.”

Kellin shakes his head. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.” In reality, it’d be nice to have some help from Vic, but at the same time, he doesn’t want Vic to have to do anything. It’s a struggle between being hospitable and being honest. “You’ve got work tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, but I know you stayed up later than I did,” Vic points out. “Here. I can take care of him, I swear.”

Extremely reluctantly, Kellin hands Tyson over to Vic, who immediately starts mimicking Kellin’s soothing movements. It’s a strange sight to see, Vic being domestic and caring, holding a child in his arms like he’s done it a thousand times. Tyson, surprisingly, does not grab onto Vic’s hair this time, instead slowing his crying and almost seeming to relax against Vic, who just smiles fondly. Kellin’s never seen this affectionate side of him before.

Okay, that’s a lie. Technically he has. But that was back in college, and it doesn’t matter, and maybe Vic’s right and he really does need to get some sleep.

“I—thank you,” Kellin says. He feels like it’s not enough.

“Anytime,” Vic replies casually, only taking his eyes off of Tyson for a few seconds. “Now go get some sleep.”

—

The next morning, Vic happens to answer the door when Lynn comes over about fifteen minutes before Kellin is supposed to leave for work. They’ve never officially met until now, and at the sight of Vic, who still looks like he just woke up, Lynn says, “Wait, are you living here?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Vic says slowly. “I’m—”

“Holy shit, Kells, you never told me you had a boyfriend!” Lynn calls, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Kellin glances over his shoulder as he’s feeding Tyson. “What boyfriend?” he says, his face heating up at the assumption. “That’s just Vic! Y’know, from college?”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve told me about him!” Lynn says. “I always knew you two had a thing.”

Oh, we had a thing, alright, Kellin thinks, before mentally slapping himself. Out loud, he says, “We don’t. We’re not dating. His house is being renovated, so he asked if he could stay here.”

“Oh,” Lynn says. “That’s a lot less exciting.”

“Sorry,” Kellin says, getting one last bite of food into Tyson’s mouth. “I still only have two friends. No secret boyfriends.”

“Boo,” Lynn says. “You’d better savor today, Kell. We both know that I’m so much better than any daycare.”

“Oh, definitely,” Kellin agrees. “And Tyson actually likes you.”

“What?” Vic asks, raising an eyebrow in mild confusion at the direction that the conversation has taken.

“Oh,” Lynn says. “I can’t babysit for him full-time, so I only do it on certain days, and today’s one of ‘em. The rest of the time, Kellin usually takes Tyson to a daycare. But I’m better.”

At that moment, Tyson, as if only just now noticing Lynn, makes a sound of joy and reaches out in her direction. Lynn waves and coos at him, and Vic just sort of stands back, letting her and Kellin do their thing.

Kellin doesn’t really notice that he’s sort of ignoring Vic until he’s walking out the door–Vic’s work doesn’t start for another hour, so until then, he’ll be staying with Tyson and Lynn (who complains that she could have slept longer and announces that now she’ll start coming an hour later). As he’s calling out “goodbye,” he realizes that that’s one of the only words he’s said to Vic all morning. He’s not doing it intentionally, really, but there’s something different about this whole situation, one that makes him feel the need to set boundaries. The boyfriend comment did sort of make him uncomfortable, even though he knows Lynn didn’t mean any harm, and now it’s almost as if he wants to make sure Vic doesn’t get any ideas. Not that he would; they’ve remained good friends with no drama ever since they graduated. He just hopes Vic won’t think that this is college all over again, because it’s not. And it never will be.

—

The following week, Vic goes out one evening alone for no particular reason other than just because he wants to. Kellin doesn’t blame him, really, for needing to get out; this apartment is small and generally hectic, despite only housing three people. He does manage to put Tyson to bed and even fall asleep himself before Vic gets back, though, but what he doesn’t expect is what Vic does when he returns.

It must be somewhere around one in the morning—12:30, at the very earliest—when Kellin hears the door open and close, leaving him half-awake because he’s such a light sleeper. Then he hears Vic lightly kicking his shoes off, followed by his footsteps, which are slightly uneven, and the weird thing is that they sound like they’re coming closer. Kellin lifts his head up and blinks his eyes open, catching a glimpse of Vic’s silhouette as he tiredly stumbles over to the bed. Kellin doesn’t even have any time to react before Vic just sort of falls into the bed, sighing and burying his face into a spare pillow that Kellin doesn’t normally use.

“Um,” Kellin says quietly. “Vic…?”

Vic turns his head to look at Kellin with hazy eyes, smelling vaguely of alcohol. “Go back to sleep, Kells,” he whispers.

Half of Kellin wants to freak out—because holy shit, Vic’s sort of drunk and in his bed and he’s looking at Kellin like they’re something more than friends, which they’re not—but the other half of him actually sort of likes the way Vic’s treating him. Which is a terrifying thought. Kellin should be uncomfortable, not comforted.

“Um…okay,” he finds himself saying, though there’s still a large part of him that wants to push Vic away and tell him to go sleep out on the couch like he’s supposed to.

Vic sighs in contentment and closes his eyes, reaching forward and lazily wrapping his arm around Kellin’s waist. It’s the weirdest thing, because Kellin wants to pull away, but he also doesn’t. So, well, he doesn’t. He falls asleep to Vic’s breathing the same way he used to fall asleep to Ellie’s…and the same way that he used to fall asleep to Vic’s breathing before Ellie, back when they were younger and more reckless. It shouldn’t feel warm and familiar, but it does.

Tyson doesn’t cry that night.

—

When Kellin wakes up the next morning, he finds his body still pressed up against Vic’s, and for those first few seconds, it almost seems natural. Then Kellin remembers that he’s been sleeping alone for the past eight months, since Tyson was born, and that he’s not used to having someone else in his bed. Yet here Vic is, like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t mean anything.

Vic sleeps for a few more minutes before eventually fidgeting, making a few sleepy noises. After a couple more moments, his eyes flutter open, his gaze falling on Kellin as realization crosses his features. “Oh,” he says, flustered. “I—Kells, I’m so sorry, I drank a little bit last night and I—God, I—”

“It’s fine,” Kellin interrupts.

Vic bites his lip and just sort of stares at Kellin, lightly pulling him closer by his waist. “This is okay?” he asks.

Kellin nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says softly, and right now, it’s the truth. “This is okay.”

Vic nods, too. “Good,” he says, “because that couch is kind of uncomfortable to sleep on, I’m not gonna lie.”

Surprisingly, things are less weird that day than Kellin thought they would be. He thought it would be full of awkward staring and too much silence, but instead, everything seems to go the same way it’s been going since Vic moved in. Tyson still pulls Vic’s hair most of the time, Vic still can’t cook to save his life, and Kellin still thinks of him and Vic as friends, nothing else. Everything is as it should be.

That night, however, Kellin is unexpectedly greeted by the sight of Vic in his bed (though Vic was charitable and left Kellin enough room to sleep comfortably instead of just taking up the entire space). “Um,” Kellin says, because he’s not quite sure how to react.

Vic rubs his eyes and glances up at him. “Yes?”

“Why are you…?”

He shrugs. “Like I said. That couch is uncomfortable and your bed is really fucking nice. You did say this was okay, right? Or was I just imagining it?”

“I did,” Kellin agrees. “I just…I guess I didn’t know what to expect. You don’t have, like, a sleeping bag or anything?” Yeah, okay, that was probably rude. He’s not trying to kick Vic out of his bed. He’s just trying to figure out why Vic would want to sleep in his bed in the first place. He’ll admit that it probably is a lot more comfortable than anywhere else.

Vic makes a noncommittal noise, rolling over. “Here’s a wild idea: I can sleep in this bed without planning on having sex with you.”

Kellin makes a similarly noncommittal noise in response, though this one is more out of surprise at Vic’s bluntness. “Okay, true,” he replies, climbing into the bed after a short moment of hesitation. It really is nice, sleeping with his body pressed up against Vic’s, but he’s never going to say that out loud.

The routine starts up again at about two in the morning, which seems to be Tyson’s prime time for crying. Kellin and Vic are both awoken by it, exchanging looks in the darkness. Kellin’s just about to get up and head over to the nursery when Vic sighs, “I’ll go.”

Kellin doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Vic climbs out of the bed and starts making his way over. “Wait, but—you don’t have to—he’s not even your kid,” Kellin stutters. Vic simply waves a hand at him and walks out the door. A couple of minutes later, the baby stops crying.

This starts another routine, one that Kellin in no way anticipated when he said Vic could live with him: a routine of Kellin and Vic sleeping in the same bed, of waking up most nights to Tyson’s crying like usual, of Vic being the one to calm Tyson down almost every single time. They’re not even dating, but at this point, he’s starting to think that they might as well just get married with the way that they’re acting.

—

Okay, so maybe this whole thing is starting to bring back a few old feelings.

It’s been a few weeks now, and Kellin might just be imagining it, but he sort of feels like there’s a bit of unresolved tension between him and Vic. In between all the joking and teasing and talking, Kellin thinks he hears a hint of the flirting tone that Vic used to use on him in college. Hiding in the spaces between Vic’s words when he says that sleeping together doesn’t have to mean anything, Kellin wonders if maybe Vic wants it to mean something. Hidden underneath the surface of Vic’s sarcastic statement, “I might as well just be your boyfriend,” Kellin thinks he senses something other than sarcasm. He’s not the best at reading people, but he knows Vic, and that is somehow both comforting and terrifying.

The worst part of it all is that if Vic really does still have feelings for him, then it might not be completely one-sided. Kellin doesn’t want to think about it or admit it, but he can’t escape the fact that Vic captures his attention in a way no one else has, not even Ellie. He loved Ellie—of course he did; a year ago he’d been planning on spending the rest of his life with her—but he’s learning to move on from her. That’s what he’s been doing for the past eight months, throwing himself into raising their child so that he won’t let her down, so that he’ll make sure Tyson is the best he can possibly be. It doesn’t change the fact that Tyson will grow up never knowing his mother, because his mother died giving birth to him.

The fact of the matter is that Kellin’s not sure if he’s ready to take this step with Vic, even though, technically, they’ve done it before. As much as he wishes it weren’t true, he’s afraid. He’s afraid that he’ll lose someone again.

It feels weird, feeling these things for Vic all over again. They’re not new; Kellin already knows Vic’s deepest secrets and biggest fears, and he already knows what Vic’s lips feel like on his. As much as he wishes he could just refer to that stage of his life as his “gay phase,” he’s starting to realize that there was no “phase” about it. If anything, the word “bisexual” is beginning to sound pretty good to him, but that’s a different issue, and he’ll worry about it later. He’s got plenty of time to figure himself out. Right now, his main focus is Vic.

He’s not really sure what to do, whether to make a move or wait for Vic, whether to drop hints or pretend like nothing has changed. He’s still unsure of whether or not he even wants to think of Vic that way. Everything’s really just kind of confusing right now.

About a month and a half passes in this fashion, with Vic having to deal with the progress of his house renovation along with everything else. Kellin has grown used to living with Vic and, yes, even the sleeping part, and he’s not sure how he’ll be able to readjust once Vic’s house is finished. He’s pretty sure Tyson won’t be too pleased at first, either, considering that Vic almost has become like a second dad to him. Obviously this won’t last very long, but Kellin has picked up on Vic’s connection to the child by now. Vic might miss living with Tyson even more than Tyson will miss Vic, even though it’s not like they’ll never see each other again. It’s as if Vic is just sort of becoming a part of the family.

“So Father’s Day is coming up,” Vic casually says to Kellin one night as they’re lying in bed with the lights off. It’s around mid-June by now, and, well, Vic’s right: Father’s Day is next weekend. Kellin bites his lip, thinking about the fact that last month, he celebrated Mother’s Day with his mom but couldn’t celebrate with Ellie. She may be gone, but she’s still a mother. And Kellin may have moved on from her, may have finally stopped dwelling on the past, but that doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be upset about it every once in a while. Father’s Day hurts, too, because it’s just a reminder that his father was never around, that he has to be better than that for Tyson.

“Yeah?” Kellin says, a bit snappier than he intended. “So?”

Vic shrugs. “Well, you’re a father. I was just thinking that we could do something, y’know, to celebrate.”

“‘We?’” Kellin repeats. “Won’t you be celebrating with your dad?”

“Lives too far away,” Vic replies. “I’ll call him, send him a card, but that’s pretty much it. I just thought that maybe you wanted to do something.”

“We don’t really have to do anything,” Kellin says dismissively, rolling over on his side to look at Vic. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm,” Vic says thoughtfully, staring at him for a long moment. “I know,” he says finally. “I know you don’t really like Father’s Day. I know things have been hard for you lately. But I’m here for you, alright?”

Kellin just nods, lost in a daze as he remembers a night in college that changed both of them forever. He remembers the argument clearly—he’d just recently broken up with Vic because he couldn’t deal with the direction their relationship was going. He was in denial, basically, and they both knew it was becoming something more serious rather than just an experiment or fling. So he broke it off, and Vic was completely beside himself at first. Just as they were starting to get over their fallout, though, Kellin met Ellie, and Vic’s jealousy was vile. This particular night was the night that Kellin confronted Vic about it and told him he had no right to be jealous since they weren’t dating anymore, and it was probably the worst argument Kellin’s ever been involved in. Vic told Kellin that he’d never be there for him ever again, that he didn’t give a fuck what happened to him.

Kellin went out and got drunk that night, way too drunk for his own good. And, lo and behold, Vic was the one who chased after him, picked him up, and took him back to their dorm. That was the moment that he realized he couldn’t ever let Vic go, whether it be as a lover or a friend.

“Thank you,” Kellin whispers as all those renewed emotions rush through him like a waterfall.

Vic stares at him for the longest time, an odd sort of look in his eyes. “Anytime,” he says softly. Then he leans in and presses his lips against Kellin’s.

It’s not wild and reckless at first, the way their kisses usually were in their college days. Instead, it’s gentle and familiar and comforting, almost like coming home after being away for a long time. That’s what it feels like.

Vic pulls away after a few moments, looking mildly shocked, as if he’s surprised at himself for doing what he just did. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Kells, I—”

“Do it again,” Kellin interrupts, nodding reassuringly.

Now the surprise is directed at him, but it doesn’t last long, because then Vic gives in and does as Kellin says, kissing him again, longer and more passionate. This time, though, Kellin is the one to pull away. “Wait,” he says nervously, a million thoughts bombarding him at once. “What is this, Vic? What are we? Because I want us to be what we were back in college, but better. But I’m scared.”

Vic nods slowly. “It’s okay to be scared,” he says calmly, and this is perhaps one of Kellin’s favorite things about him: he recognizes people’s feelings instead of invalidating them. “This is a scary thing, especially with what you’ve gone through. I’ll tell you, though, that I want us to be what we were back then, too. I thought I was over you, but now I’m starting to realize that I’m not. If you and I have the same idea, then…well, I’d encourage you to take a risk, regardless of how it’ll all turn out.”

Kellin just stares at him, taking his words in and considering them. “I don’t know if I want to put a label to what we have just yet,” he says after a long pause. “I kind of just want to, like, try it out, take it slow, get my feet wet first before diving in. See if I’m ready for all of this.”

“Okay,” Vic replies, wrapping an arm around Kellin’s waist. “We can do that, then.”

They only get about ten seconds of peace and quiet before the baby starts crying. They both laugh a little, and then Vic climbs out of bed to do his duty. Kellin thinks he’s going to try to find a way to repay him.

—

The next week is somehow more peaceful, feeling simultaneously like both an ending and a beginning. On the one hand, it feels sort of like the ending of a story where everything works out in the end, because of how satisfactory it is. On the other hand, it feels like the very beginning of something, uncertain in the best of ways. Kellin likes it much better than the feeling of something being unresolved. They might not have put a name to the nature of their relationship, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there, because it is. It’s there, and it’s scary, and it’s exciting, and it’s freeing.

On Father’s Day, Vic takes Kellin out (with Tyson) to a fairly nice restaurant. The day turns out to be a lot nicer than most other Father’s Days that he’s celebrated, mostly because this time it’s about him and not his absent father. It’s about him raising this child and always being there for it. And in a weird sort of way, Kellin likes to think that it’s about Vic, too, even though Vic technically isn’t a father. He treats Tyson the same sort of way.

“You’d be a great dad,” he says casually as Vic is helping to feed Tyson his baby food.

Vic raises an eyebrow. “What are you implying, Kell? Are we suddenly getting married?” he teases. “Not that I wouldn’t be down for it, of course, but isn’t it a little soon?”

Kellin reaches across the table and smacks him lightly. “Shut up,” he says, his face heating up. “I just mean that I really wasn’t lying when I said you’d be like Tyson’s second dad. Damn it, I’m gonna miss you when you move out.”

“Maybe I won’t move out,” Vic says. “Or maybe you’ll move in. Who knows? Not me. But thank you. I think the dad thing was a compliment.”

“It was.”

“Great. Then happy Father’s Day. Cheers to keeping this tiny human alive for almost an entire year.” Vic clinks his drink with Kellin’s. “Can’t believe it. You’re actually not terrible at this whole parenting thing.”

Kellin rolls his eyes affectionately. “Happy Father’s Day to you, too, you nerd.”

At this moment, Tyson decides that pulling on Vic’s hair is much more important than eating. “Oh my God, ow,” Vic hisses, gritting his teeth.

Kellin can’t help but laugh. “I think you deserved that one.”

Vic sticks his tongue out at him. “Whatever. Now get over here and help me.”