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When Apollo has a sore throat one evening, he doesn’t even notice. Well, that’s not strictly true. He always notices these things; obsesses over them even. It’s just a side effect of having a brain that loves imagining everything that could possibly go wrong ever.
Not tonight though. Tonight his throat hurts and he doesn’t worry about it, mostly because he’s been scream-singing karaoke songs with Steve. Not only is an entire evening of belting out breakup songs at the top of your voice a very plausible explanation for a sore throat, but Apollo is also way more occupied with Steve’s broken heart than he is with his own stupid brain.
It has been over a month since that first phone call, in which Steve very quietly and monotonously asked him if he could possibly stay at Apollo’s place for a while. He didn’t explain anything, but it wasn’t very hard to connect the dots. Especially after Apollo offered Janet a place too, and Steve asked him to extend his hospitality to Oly instead. As far as breakups go, this one seems pretty final.
Ever since Steve moved in, things have been... normal. Apollo would have expected more of that quiet Steve he heard on the phone, more moping, more -well he doesn’t know what happened, but more of whatever emotion is appropriate for that. Instead, Steve is as loud and rude and obnoxious as always. He eats Apollo’s food from the fridge, he wakes Apollo up by cursing loudly during his early morning Valo streams, he lets Artie and the cats sit on the couch and the beds and spoils them rotten: he turns Apollo’s life into chaos, and it’s wonderful. It’s everything Apollo has been imagining ever since that day years ago when Steve floated the idea of the two of them getting a place together, and he'd feel guilty about enjoying it if Steve didn't also seem very happy with this arrangement.
Sometimes, though... sometimes Apollo catches Steve running his hands over Oly's fur and staring into space. It never lasts longer than it takes Apollo to ask him if everything is alright, and the strongest emotion Steve projects is a certain wistfulness, but still. It's the only reaction to his breakup that Apollo sees, so he pays attention to it.
Maybe it's his stupid brain jumping to the worst conclusion again, but Apollo thinks that Steve isn't doing as well as he seems. And with Steve and Janet occupying his mind, he forgets about his sore throat.
-
A few days later, Apollo's sore throat has developed into a nasty little cough. He's spent half his stream coughing, and he's been drinking so much tea that he needs to use the bathroom nearly constantly.
Returning from his umpteenth trip to the loo, he sits himself down at the lunch table, reaches for the tea pot, and promptly breaks down into another coughing fit. Once he's caught his breath, he whines and accepts the pitying look as well as the jar of honey Steve sends his way.
At this point, he’s started worrying about getting ill. Or getting worse, at least. Just a cough he can handle. As long as it isn’t covid, he can handle it. If he just takes a big bag of cough drops and wears a face mask, he can travel. And there’s still a week before Christmas. He could get better. He probably will get better. It’s just a cough. He’s not cancelling his plans. Not yet.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Apollo croaks.
Steve takes a large bite of his fried egg, and mumbles his answer around it. “Nothing.” The corners of his mouth curl down, and he fixes his gaze on his plate.
“Sorry,” Apollo says. “Maybe you could go see your parents.”
“They’re on vacation,” Steve says flatly. “Booked a flight to Mexico as soon as I told them I wasn’t coming over.” He laughs humourlessly, before stuffing more egg into his mouth. “Guess that’s on me for making Christmas plans ridiculously early.”
Apollo doesn’t really know what to say. Breakups suck, and he feels bad that Steve is still unhappy. He feels bad that his words are the ones that made Steve’s mood drop.
Before he can apologise, Steve sits up straighter, reaches for the orange juice, and grins at Apollo. “Not to worry. I’ll just look after your place. I can watch movies all day, and order fancy food, and make hot chocolate. It’ll be fun.”
“You could come with me,” Apollo proposes. He watches Steve intently, trying to gauge his reaction. “I’m sure my mum would love to have you.”
Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet Apollo’s, and Apollo sees surprise, and a certain softness, and he’s pretty sure Steve is blushing a little. “Yeah, maybe,” Steve murmurs. This time the smile on his face is genuine.
Apollo smiles back, basking in the warmth of a little domestic moment such as this, and he allows himself to daydream about taking Steve home to meet his family. Both of them are lost in thought for a moment, but the silence is broken when Steve suddenly drops his fork.
“Fuck. Shit. I... there’s something I forgot to cancel,” Steve blurts out. “Shit. Sorry, I have to make a phone call real quick.” He pushes his chair back and all but runs from the room, leaving Apollo a little bewildered, and very intrigued. Apollo spends the rest of the teapot theorising. He also lets himself daydream a little more as a treat.
-
Apollo phones his mum that evening, after taking three covid tests that all come back negative. Yes, he is always worrying, but he’s also an extremely stubborn person, and he is not cancelling his Christmas plans for a throat ache and some coughing.
His mum is absolutely delighted that he’s bringing a friend, and when he mentions Steve’s name, he has to spend a couple of minutes convincing her that Steve really is a friend, and not a boyfriend.
When Apollo hangs up, he notices Steve standing in the doorway, regarding him with a strange look on his face, and he feels his cheeks burn.
Later that day, he catches Steve staring into space and petting Oly again.
-
It's just two days before Christmas, and Apollo is in bed, even though it is the middle of the afternoon. He's been sniffling for a while now, and it's gotten to the point where his sinuses are completely plugged up. As a result his head is absolutely killing him, and he's alternating between blowing his nose religiously in an attempt to be able to breathe through it (unsuccessfully), and wallowing in self pity and simply letting the snot drip from his nose into the towel on his pillow (disgustingly). It's a miserable experience.
He's trying to fall asleep, but he's too busy stressing out about Christmas to relax enough to be able to drift off. If he doesn't get better really soon, he's going to have to cancel, and his mum is going to be so disappointed. This is the first year since covid that he is spending the holidays at her place and she's been excited about it for weeks. He doesn’t want to let her down. He also doesn’t want to cancel at the last moment, but calling right now is impossible, because his phone battery is dead. He’s lent the charger to Steve, and he really doesn’t want to leave his bed to go looking for it. He’ll do it later today. Maybe after a little nap. Maybe when his head isn’t pounding along with his heart. Maybe when the prospect of disappointing his mum doesn’t make him want to curl up and die.
Pulling the blanket over his head, Apollo forces his eyes shut and begs for sleep to take him. And it does. He’s drifting in and out for a bit, dreaming about Christmas, and snow, and Steve. It’s quite pleasant, until Steve decides to get loud.
At first, Apollo thinks it’s dream Steve that’s yelling, but slowly he realises that it’s actual Steve making a racket. He groans and covers his ears with the pillow, but it’s not enough to block out Steve’s sharp words of “Shut up!”, “Ridiculous”, and what sounds like “Just a fucking phone call” that are burrowing themselves into his aching head like knives. And even though he dreads leaving the bed, he needs it to stop.
Whining pathetically, Apollo wraps himself in the covers like a human burrito and slowly shuffles over to Steve’s room, flinching as Steve’s shouts of “Janet!”, “What the fuck”, and “Just fucking listen to me” slam into him like a sledgehammer. Steve’s door is wide open, and he’s pacing the room frenetically. He’s frowning, and there are red spots on his cheeks and neck.
“It’s not a fucking crime for me to talk to your fucking dad, Janet,” Steve bellows, and he’s so loud that Apollo can’t help but cover his ears and softly whimper in pain. The sound is apparently enough to attract Steve’s attention, and Apollo sees him turn around and notice Apollo’s sorry state as if in slow-motion. He tentatively steps closer, and puts the hand that is not holding the phone on Apollo’s arm. “Shit, Dumbdog,” he says. “Are you ok? You look absolutely terrible.”
“Yeah. But could you mayb-” Apollo starts, but he’s cut off by Janet’s furious voice exploding from Steve’s phone.
“DUMBDOG?” She shouts, and Apollo flinches at every syllable. “YOU’RE STAYING WITH DUMBDOG? THE FUCKING AUDACITY!”
“I’ll call you back, Janet,” Steve says, blushing, but never taking his eyes off Apollo.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING HANG UP ON ME, STEVEN SUPTIC,” Janet screeches, but Steve does just that. He looks guilty about it, but that doesn’t stop him from chucking his phone on the bed for good measure.
“Hey,” Steve calls softly. “What’s wrong, bud?”
“My head hurts,” Apollo whines, and he wobbles. “My head hurts and it won’t stop. Why was Janet so mad?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Steve grabs Apollo with both hands, steadying him and guiding him back towards his bedroom. “Let’s get you back to bed, you poor thing. I’ll get you some tea. And a painkiller.”
“We’re out,” Apollo mumbles. “I checked earlier.”
“Oh, honey,” Steve purses his lips as he helps Apollo over the threshold. “How about I make you some tea, and then I’ll go get some paracetamol at the shops whilst you sleep? Does that sound good?”
Apollo nods pitifully and lets Steve unravel the blanket burrito and turn it back into a regular blanket, drape it across Apollo and ruffle his hair. He’s asleep before Steve even returns with the tea.
-
As soon as Apollo gets out of bed he knows this is going to be a risky trip. He refuses to piss in the empty teacup on his nightstand, or in his bed, though, so there's nothing for it: he's going to have to go to the bathroom. He keeps a hand on the wall wherever he can, and he takes two breaks, but he makes it. He's feeling shaky as fuck, but he makes it.
He's not as lucky on the way back.
He gets up to wash his hands and is immediately hit with lightheadedness, forcing him to grip the sink with both his hands to stay upright. He doesn't want to faint, especially not in the middle of the night on his bathroom floor, so he sits down on the edge of the tub and puts his head between his legs, which helps a little. Apollo groans. At this point he really can't deny that he's properly sick, which means that he's going to have to cancel on his mum and ruin both her and Steve's Christmas.
Not long after, Apollo starts shivering, and he decides he should try to get back to bed. He lets himself slide down onto the floor, getting on all fours and slowly crawling towards the locked door. His bathroom isn't big, but the door has never seemed so far out of reach. And when he eventually reaches it, there's still the seemingly impossible task of unlocking it, and he wants nothing more than to call for Steve. However, even if he hadn't nearly lost his voice due to all the coughing, and Steve would by some miracle hear him and come over to help him, Apollo would still have to unlock the bathroom door himself.
He takes a rattling breath and instead of shouting for Steve, he uses all his determination to drag himself up to standing. He turns the lock and carefully presses on the handle, but as the door swings open he loses his balance and his already unsteady legs give out, causing him to collapse to the floor. Things get a little hazy after that.
He blinks, and suddenly he's so warm that he thinks he might scorch the carpet.
He blinks again, and he's back to shivering.
He curls in on himself, both to preserve what body warmth he has and because he's being wrecked by another coughing fit.
Vaguely, he realises that his own barking cough is being answered. He barks again, and for a second he feels warmth on his face, but it dissipates so quickly that he thinks he must have imagined it. He barks once more, trying to get it back, and whines when nothing happens.
At some point there are soft footsteps and a loud voice, followed by loud footsteps and a soft voice. Apollo barks again, before growling when something cold is pressed against his forehead. The soft voice washes over him again. Then, the cold object is pulled away, and he's enveloped in warmth.
He blinks again, and the soft voice is still speaking, albeit haltingly. He's warm now, and the ground seems softer. Someone seems to be petting him, but when he moves, they stop. He snuggles into the hand on his back and whines until it goes back to petting him.
For a moment, he forgets he isn’t actually a dog and he tries to wag his tail, but that makes the warm body behind him and the hand that was running over his spine freeze in their tracks. The soft voice is back, and though it’s still soft, there is something sharp in it too. Something guarded. Apollo whines again, but this time it goes ignored. It isn’t until he goes back to barking himself out of breath that the hand hesitantly starts moving up and down his back again. He sighs contentedly, and manages to drift off for a bit.
He wakes up a short time later because he’s barking again. No, not barking; coughing, he thinks, finally remembering that he is in fact human. He’s crestfallen for a hot second, but quickly realises that at least this means he’s getting a bit more lucid. Along with that, he realises that the hand that’s still gently stroking his back belongs to Steve. Steve who’s awake and trying to make him feel better at arse o’clock in the morning. Steve whose Christmas Apollo is ruining. Steve whose health Apollo is probably also ruining, considering the amount of snot and coughing he’s been exposing him to. Steve whose night’s rest Apollo is definitely ruining, with his pathetic coughing, and sniffling, and -oh god, did he faint in the hallway? Did he force Steve to carry him back to bed? He groans in embarrassment and curls into a ball.
“Oh, honey,” Steve whispers, and he presses down on Apollo’s back with slightly more force to show his commiseration.
“I’m sorry,” Apollo croaks. “I’m sorry for messing everything up.”
Steve says something back, but Apollo doesn’t quite catch it. His thoughts are split between feeling miserable because everything hurts, and feeling blissful because he’s in Steve’s arms and he’s definitely still a little delirious due to his fever, which makes for some very lovely fantasies.
“I really wanted to take you home,” Apollo confesses hoarsely, wistfully. “Introduce you to my mum and the rest of the family.” He sighs, and imagines his mum’s I knew it, when he introduces Steve as his boyfriend, his brother’s good-natured teasing, and the inevitable shovel talk. He imagines a lovely evening, filled with good food and even better conversation, that ends in his family embracing Steve like one of their own. He doesn’t even need to imagine the way Steve would hold him when they’d go to sleep at the end of the night, because it would be exactly how Steve is holding him now, minus the icky sicky stuff.
“Try to sleep,” Steve says. “I’ll make you tea in the morning. And we’ll have a small Christmas celebration with just the two of us.”
Oh, Apollo thinks, and his chest fills up with a warmth that soothes his aching ribs. I love you, he thinks, and I wish you’d hold me like this for real.
Steve’s hand stills, and a heavy breath brushes over Apollo’s neck. It’s warm, and Apollo is comfortable, and it’s easier than he thought to let himself fall asleep.
He wakes several more times, alternating between rolling away from Steve when he’s too warm and curling up against him when he’s cold again, but his dreams are sweet and vivid, and he ends up feeling more relaxed than he has in days.
-
Christmas is... strange. Apollo spends most of it in his bed, trying to sleep in the hopes he’ll feel better soon. Steve spends most of it doing sweet little things for Apollo. He brings him tea with honey to help with his sore throat. He calls Apollo’s mum to explain the situation and tell her they’re not coming. He even arranges a Christmas dinner that consists of homemade chicken soup and delivered pizza slices that he’s cut to look like little Christmas trees. By all accounts, Apollo should feel humbled. Honoured. Delighted. And he does, at first, but the longer the day goes on, the more he notices something is off about Steve. His smiles are brittle. His kind words are spoken too jovially to be completely sincere. Something is wrong that wasn’t wrong yesterday, or even last night, and Apollo worries it’s his fault.
At first, he tries apologising. Tells Steve he’s sorry for making him look after Apollo on Christmas. Tells Steve he’s sorry for cancelling both their fun plans at the last minute. Tells Steve he’s sorry for being a terrible host. But whatever he comes up with to apologise for is waved away immediately, and very sincerely. Apollo still doesn’t know why Steve is acting so strange, but Steve genuinely doesn’t seem to mind this wonky Christmas they’re having.
Next, he tries subtly asking Steve what the problem is. A hesitant “Hey, are you ok?” when Steve’s reaction to Apollo’s gift for him is a little too cheery. A quiet “You good?” when Steve frowns after Apollo squeezes his hand after walking him to the bathroom and back. A very serious “Steve?” when Steve freezes up in Apollo’s thank you for looking after me hug, and a quiet “What’s wrong?” when Steve takes a step back, out of Apollo’s reach. That last one seems to almost break Steve’s resolve, but in the end there’s just the quick little shake of the head and change of subject that Apollo’s been getting all day.
So he breaks out the big guns. And by big guns he means he just demands to know what’s going on.
“Steve?” Apollo asks firmly.
Steve looks up from the book he's reading out loud, probably worried that Apollo is going to drown in the bathtub. “What's wrong?” he asks, and isn't that a delicious morsel of irony.
“Nothing,” Apollo says, playing with the rubber duck that Steve found on a shelf somewhere. “Nothing with me, at least. Besides the obvious sicky stuff, of course. But something is clearly wrong with you, and I'm making it worse somehow. So if you could tell me what I’m doing wrong, I can stop making you feel bad.”
“I’m fine, Dumbdog,” Steve says dismissively, and were it not for the way Steve refuses to make eye contact and the way his fingers grip the book just a little too tightly, Apollo might have believed him.
“Is it because of your breakup?” Apollo presses on, even when he sees Steve's shoulders shoot up towards his ears. Seems like he's searching in the right direction. “Was it something I said?” he tries, and wow, that's even closer to the truth, apparently. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, and the tiniest whine slips past his lips.
“Whatever it was, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he tells Steve, which might be the wrong thing to say, because Steve slams the book shut and walks out of the bathroom.
“I need to... I can't...” Steve stammers, running his free hand through his hair. He makes eye contact for half a second. “Please don't drown. Call me if you need help getting out of the bath,” he says, before closing the door and leaving Apollo alone.
Apollo sighs and slides back so only his head is above the water. That was a fucking disaster.
When he steps into the living room, still all rosy from the warm bath and feeling better than he has in days, he hears sniffling. At first, he thinks Steve must be getting his cold, and he feels bad for making Christmas even worse than it already was, but when he steps closer, he realises that Steve is crying. He's curled up into a little ball on the couch, tears running down his cheeks, and his shoulders shake with every sob.
“Hey,” Apollo says softly. He approaches Steve and puts a hand on his shoulder. “What's going on?”
Steve jerks away from Apollo's touch. “Not now,” he sobs. “Please, Dumbdog, just leave me alone for a bit.”
“Ok, of course,” Apollo whispers. He walks to the kitchen to brew Steve some tea, and once the water is done he's come to a decision. Steve has been a little off ever since he moved in, but this feels big. This feels like a proper breakdown. And it's either Apollo’s or Janet's fault, or most likely both their faults. There's only one thing for it, and that's to involve Janet. Maybe, if he finds out what happened between her and Steve, he can figure out what he did wrong. Maybe then he can fix it, so he no longer has to feel Steve’s little sobs piercing his heart.
He texts Janet. It’s a very awkward, overly polite message, with way too much punctuation, but he does it anyway. To his surprise, his phone rings some five minutes later.
“Hi?” Apollo answers hesitantly.
“Hey,” Janet says. She takes a breath, and adds “He’s crying?” And when Apollo hums the affirmative, she says in a small voice “Oh. I’ve never seen him cry.”
“Me neither,” says Apollo. “I think I caused it somehow.”
Janet scoffs. “I sincerely doubt that.”
“But he’s been fine. He’s been normal. He’s been very sweet actually, taking care of me because I’m sick.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What’s wrong?” Janet inquires.
“Bad cold,” Apollo says. As if to prove his point, he has to cough a couple of times. “And a fever, I think. I’m pretty sure I was a little delirious last night. Either that, or I did really turn into a dog for a while.”
Janet giggles quietly. “Isn’t that the dream?” she jokes.
“For real,” Apollo plays along.
They’re both quiet for a moment. And then Janet clears her throat, and steers the conversation back to its original topic. “So... Steve.”
“Steve,” Apollo repeats. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could help me figure out what I did wrong. I asked him if he was upset because of the breakup, and he definitely reacted to that. Then I asked if it was something I said, and he... it was like he was trying to pretend it wasn’t, but he... he whined, Janet. What am I supposed to think? So of course I apologised for whatever it is I said or did, but that only made things worse. He pretty much ran from the room. And I don’t understand. How is he both sad about breaking up and about something I did? It’s not like I broke up with him. You broke up with him. Or he broke up with you, I guess. I don’t actually know what happened.”
“I broke up with him,” Janet says.
After a few seconds of quiet, Apollo says “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, it’s not really your fault.” Janet sighs.
“But it was a bit my fault?” Apollo asks in a small voice.
“It was my decision, and I stand by it,” Janet says firmly, not actually answering Apollo’s question. “Tell me something, though. What were you hallucinating yesterday? Besides being a dog?”
“Mostly that. And a little about Christmas. We were supposed to go home to my mum’s, so it was on my mind.”
“Steve was coming with?” Janet asks. “He was there? In your fever dream?”
“Yeah,” Apollo admits. He’s glad Janet can’t see him blush.
“Ok,” Janet says. “So, you said something to him in a delirium that made him act weird, and then you took it back and he started crying? That’s what’s going on?”
“Yes,” Apollo says. “Why? Do you understand what happened?”
Janet sighs deeply, and mumbles “Oh, save me from these fucking idiots” under her breath. “Ok, Dumbdog. Let me tell you why I broke up with Steve,” she says. “I found a ring. It was Steve’s own fault. He lost his stupid dress shirt and he was too lazy to go looking for it. So I did. And it was just in his wardrobe. Also in his wardrobe: a fucking engagement ring.”
“Wait,” Apollo interrupts. “You broke up with him because he was going to propose?”
“No,” Janet’s voice wavers. “I broke up with him because he was going to propose to me when he’s clearly in love with you.”
The silence following that bombshell is deafening. Apollo breaks it anyway. “He what?”
“Oh, come off it,” Janet scoffs. “It’s completely obvious. He’s in love with you. And you’re in love with him. It’s clear as day.”
“I don’t-” Apollo starts, but Janet doesn’t let him finish.
“No. Whatever you’re going to say, just don’t. I didn’t martyr myself just so you two can stick your heads in the sand and pretend that you don’t want to kiss each other. Just admit it, you fucking coward. Just admit that you’re in love with him.”
So Apollo does admit it. To himself as much as to Janet. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”
“Thank you,” Janet says. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
“Uh,” Apollo mutters, head spinning with this new turn of events. He’s still trying to wrap his head around being in love with Steve. Around Steve possibly being in love with him. It opens up possibilities, for sure, but it’s also great fodder for his worst-case-scenario-loving brain.
“You tell him,” Janet spits when Apollo’s silence lasts too long. Her voice breaks, but she keeps talking. “You tell him right now. Please.”
“Janet,” says Apollo softly. Carefully.
He hears a shaky intake of breath, and then a soft sniffle as Janet starts crying.
“Janet,” Apollo repeats.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry,” Janet keens. “It just hurts worse than I expected.”
“Fuck. I’m so sorry,” Apollo pleads. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know,” says Janet, “but you’re going to anyway. Less if you tell Steve. Then at least I can be sure I did the right thing by breaking up with him.”
“Seems unfair, though,” Apollo whispers. “Why are you the only one who has to hurt?”
“I’m not. Steve’s hurting too. That’s the whole reason we’re even talking about this. And I bet you’re hurting a little as well, and you’re not even really involved.” Janet says in between sniffles.
“I do. I feel like I would be actively hurting you. Like I’d kick you when you’re down.”
“I’m doing this for me, too,” Janet says. “I deserve better than to get married to some idiot who’s in love with someone else. Who’ll probably come to resent me for not being you. I deserve someone who thinks I am the best thing to ever happen to planet earth. And that person is not Steve. No matter how much I wanted him to be.”
“I’m sorry,” Apollo repeats.
“I know,” Janet hiccups. “You can make it up to me by talking to Steve. This whole situation sucks, but at least you’ll make me feel good about myself for calling it. And for giving up what I had to give you two a chance. To give all three of us a chance for something better. We all deserve it.”
“Ok,” Apollo breathes. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Just do me one favour and don’t tell me what happens. Pretend you’re still friends for a while,” Janet says in a small voice. “Like, rationally this is what I want, but you know... it’ll still hurt like a bitch.”
“I promise,” Apollo says, “if you promise to still let me be your friend. You can tell me what you need. I want to be there for you too.”
“Deal. Thanks, Dumbdog,” Janet says, and although her voice is still unstable, Apollo can hear a hesitant smile colour her words.
-
It’s late at night when Apollo peeks into the living room. Steve is still lying on the couch, but he’s asleep now. Apollo tiptoes towards him, and carefully drapes a blanket over his body. He then lightly runs a finger over Steve’s jaw, before getting up and turning the Christmas lights off. He almost manages to sneak out again undetected, were it not for one of the cats making an attempt on his life, causing him to trip and stumble into the door.
He curses under his breath, and almost doesn’t hear Steve’s sleepy “Dumbdog?”
“Sorry, bud,” Apollo mumbles. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Steve yawns. “Is ok. You ok? Do I need to carry you to your bed again?”
Apollo groans. “I’m sorry about that. I really need to stop getting myself into these situations.”
“I don’t mind taking care of you,” Steve mutters, and Apollo feels warmth build in his chest.
“Thanks,” Apollo says bashfully. “Do you want me to repay the favour and carry you to bed this time?”
Steve lets a short giggle slip past his lips. “I’m good. I can walk.”
Apollo hums, and the two of them are quiet for a while. Apollo wonders if he should bring up his conversation with Janet. Steve seems to be ok now. He’s not crying, he’s even joking a little, and Apollo doesn’t want to be the cause of more tears. But he also made a promise to Janet that he intends to keep. So he sits down on the floor, leaning against the couch, and asks “Are you feeling a bit better, then?”
It’s too dark to see Steve’s reaction. There is only a rustle of the blanket and a soft sigh that doesn’t really tell Apollo anything, before Steve says “Yeah. A bit.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Apollo suggests.
“I don’t know,” Steve sighs. “Part of me wants to, but most of me just wants to repress the hell out of it.”
“I get that,” Apollo agrees. Then, in what is either a stroke of genius or a stroke of madness, he adds “There’s something I’m scared to talk about too.”
“You can tell me anything,” Steve promises, and Apollo really hopes that will turn out to be the truth.
“I uh-” he starts, desperately trying to find the right words. How do people even do this? He’s spent the entire week being vulnerable in front of Steve, and yet, it feels almost physically impossible to do it again. To do it on purpose this time. He’s thirty years old, for fuck’s sake, why can’t he just be mature about it?
“I-” he says again. Steve’s fingers brush over his shoulder, and they encourage him to finish that sentence. “I like you,” he says lamely.
“I like you too, Dumbdog,” Steve reassures.
“No. I mean I like you,” Apollo stutters, and it’s like the dam is broken. “As in, I want to hold your hand, and kiss you, and sleep in the same bed every night. I want to take you home for Christmas and introduce you to my family as my boyfriend. I want you to officially move in with me. I want to be Steve-and-Apollo, I want to be we, and us. I like you.”
“Oh,” breathes Steve when Apollo falls quiet. His hand stills on Apollo’s shoulder, but he doesn’t withdraw it. “You mean it?”
Apollo wonders if this is Steve giving him an out; an easy way to go back to being just friends, but he doesn’t think there is a way back now. His words are in the world. He said them, Steve heard them, and things are different now. “I mean it,” he says.
“Oh,” Steve repeats. Then he sniffles, and Apollo’s heart drops. However, before Apollo can think himself into an anxiety attack, Steve haltingly adds “I th-thought you were just ha- hallucinating yesterday. I thought you didn’t m-mean it, and it broke my fucking heart.”
“Steve,” Apollo pleads. He turns slightly, and when Steve’s hand slips from his shoulder, he takes it in his own. “To be honest, I don’t remember what I said yesterday, but if it was that I like you, I definitely meant it. Being delirious just lowered my inhibitions, it didn’t invent whole-ass feelings. I like you so much. So much it hurts sometimes.”
Steve squeezes his hand, and tries to calm down. At first his breathing slowly becomes steadier, but as time passes, it gets a little shaky again. After a deep shuddering breath, Steve stammers “Janet is going to hate me.”
“Janet is not going to hate you,” Apollo soothes. “She’s your friend, and she wants you to be happy.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Steve objects. “You don’t know what happened.”
“I do, actually. Janet is my friend too. We talk,” Apollo says. “She told me why you guys broke up. If she didn’t want this to happen, she would just not have broken up with you, and you guys would have gotten married. I think she had pretty much all of the agency in this situation.”
“You talked to Janet,” Steve states. “Oh my god, you talked to Janet. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Well,” Apollo drawls, “I did only talk to her about an hour ago.”
Steve snorts. “That’s probably for the best. I needed a lot of time to figure out she was right. Little old slow Steve.”
“She was right?” Apollo inquires hopefully.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “And doesn’t that just make me the worst person alive?”
“I don't really think you did anything wrong,” Apollo says. “You can't help what you feel, you know. And you didn't cheat on her, or treat her badly, or hurt her on purpose. She just realised what was going on, and put herself first. The situation sucks, but it isn't either of your faults.”
“I moved in with you, though,” Steve says, and Apollo is suddenly reminded of Janet screaming at Steve on the phone.
“Not to hurt her,” Apollo refutes.
“No. No, I didn’t know who else to ask. 5up is in Europe again, Hafu is living the happily married couple life, and I’m sure as hell not moving to Florida,” Steve says. “We’ve talked about living together before. It made sense to ask you. Plus, I kind of wanted to see if she was right and I really was... you know... with you.”
“When did you know?” Apollo asks.
Steve hums. “When you tried to convince your mum we weren’t dating. I heard that and it made me feel sad, and I realised it was because I wished she were right. I wished we were dating.”
Apollo runs his thumb across Steve’s hand. “Me too, I was wishing that too,” he breathes. “That's what I was hallucinating about, you know. Taking you home as my boyfriend.”
It’s quiet for a breath, both of them lost in this revelation, until Steve lets his guilt get the better of him again. “We can’t do that to Janet, though.”
“We’re not doing anything to Janet. We’re just living our life the way we want, and it turns out that what we want is to be together. It doesn’t really have anything to do with her,” Apollo says.
“Then why does it feel like she’s that cute little elephant from It Takes Two, and we’re the monsters tearing her ear off and throwing her from a cliff?” Steve pleads.
“I get it,” Apollo says. “I really do. But she’s going to be hurt no matter what. Do you really think it would be better to get back together and marry her? When she knows that’s not what you want? This way, at least, she knows she didn’t dump you for no reason. This way she has a chance to find someone who suits her better, someone who really does want to marry her. The hurting part is already done. She’s already on the floor. We should give her her ear back and give her time to mend herself.”
When Steve doesn’t respond, Apollo adds “She made me promise to tell you, you know. She told me it would make her feel better if we sort out our shit. As long as we wouldn’t rub it in her face.”
“She did?” Steve asks. Apollo hums a confirmation. Steve hums what sounds like a contemplation, and says “So, now what?”
“We take it slow,” Apollo responds. “I don’t want to be a rebound. You need time to get over Janet. Janet needs time to get over you. I want to give this an honest shot. And I want to respect Janet.”
“Yeah, I want that too,” Steve says.
“Good,” says Apollo, and he squeezes Steve’s hand again. “Now, come on. It’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”
Steve allows himself to be pulled up from the couch and navigated through the dark living room, but not without saying “Wow, Dumbdog, I thought you said we were taking it slow.”
“Shut up, Steve,” Apollo mumbles, and then they both burst into laughter.
-
They do end up taking it slow. It takes another week for Apollo to be completely recovered from his cold, and by that time Steve has succumbed to it. They wait a couple more weeks until Steve is also cold free, and then they finally kiss.
They don’t tell their friends until after Apollo’s birthday, on which they have people over, and on which Janet takes one look at the two of them, smiles softly, and announces she’s happy for them.
They don’t tell Apollo’s family until just before Easter, when he calls up his mum and asks if he can come over for Easter brunch, since he missed Christmas dinner, and also can he bring Steve? “Of course you can bring your friend,” his mum says, and he interrupts her and tells her that actually, Steve is his boyfriend now.
They don’t tell Steve’s family until the fourth of July, when Steve drags him along to Utah, and Steve’s parents welcome him like a son.
They don’t tell their viewers ever, even though there are some rumours floating around at that point. Some things are just for them.
-
The next time Apollo has a sore throat, it’s definitely because he’s been singing. They’ve been bar hopping with the crew all evening, and they ended up at a karaoke bar. This time Apollo tries his hand (or throat) at love songs, which to his delight seem to completely fluster Steve. Kimi high fives him, and consequently croons a love song of her own to Janet, who surprisingly blushes a bright scarlet. Apollo narrows his eyes and tries to make eye contact, but Janet skillfully evades his gaze.
Later, when they’re walking home, he spots the two of them holding hands. Smiling, he entangles his fingers with Steve’s, and whispers his discovery in Steve’s ear. Steve subtly looks around, confirms that Janet and Kimi are indeed holding hands, and sighs happily.
Apollo allows his brain to marvel over how everything is going so right. His friends are happy. He’s happy. Sure, his throat hurts, but when he thinks of what his last sore throat brought him, he can’t find it in himself to worry. What will come, will come, and honestly, he can’t fucking wait.