Epilogue by foggynite The air is sticky-sweet with the smell of spring and bright orange flowers. A breeze is traveling through the screen door, pressing against the tiny holes and making the screen billow slightly with a low whistle. There are birds in the poplar next to the window, small and high-pitched. The enclosed porch is a nice touch, Gabriel decides, sipping a beer. He can smell the outside world, but still sit in the shade and not be bothered by bugs. All of his creature comforts are within his reach, plus there's a fan overhead in case the breeze dies down. He decides that, for the duration of this terrible warm weather, the porch will be his domain. Plus, he can pretend to be sleeping soundly in the wicker recliner while Rob mucks about shirtless in the backyard, wearing only shorts and a bandanna, and sneakers without socks that reveal his bronzed ankles. Not that Gabriel's looking. Not at all. Not watching the sweat trail down Rob's tanned back, gathering at the base of his lick-able spine, right above the waist of his cut-offs. Not watching the play of muscles in Rob's ass and thighs as he bends down to tinker with the flipped lawnmower. Not choking on his beer when he realizes Rob's in a thong under the obscenely short shorts. Shifting uncomfortably, he decides he likes yard work after all, and smiles as Rob makes a show of pulling the bandanna off his tousled hair, mopping at the back of his neck as he stands up, stretching his sore back muscles. Gabriel debates taking a beer out to his lawn slave, but he's just gotten settled in his chair and it's so awfully bright out there. ~tease~ ~mmm. ice cold beer straight from the little cooler of ice and so~ Feel of liquid sliding down his throat, another gulp over his tongue and swirling it ~so tasty.~ ~evil evil evil~ And Gabriel smiles again as the grumbles continue straight up to the screen door, Rob's shadow looming, and he brings in with him the smell of fresh cut grass, of clean sweat and heated skin and Gabriel closes his eyes, inhaling him as deep as he can until his lungs feel like they'll burst. Opens his eyes again when Rob looms over his chair, beer in hand, purposefully letting the can drip on Gabriel's thin tank top. Gabriel wrinkles his nose in consternation, but doesn't move to wipe away the cold. "You really have melted out here, haven't you?" Rob taunts as he wrestles for a second with the wide hammock strung in the corner, sighs as he reclines without spilling a drop of his drink. "I prefer to think of it as a step towards my own Zen-like enlightenment." Closing his eyes again, Gabriel practices looking serene and fails miserably. "Really?" And he realizes Rob has been around him too long because that level of sarcasm in just two syllables is fairly difficult for the uninitiated to achieve. "Why, yes. Your hard work and physical exertion give me a deeper regard for the finer things in nature." "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the point of physical labor in Zen Buddhism to help the laborer meditate?" "I enjoy many things vicariously." Rob just snorts, and Gabriel puts another notch in today's Witty Banter scorecard. So far he's in the lead, but he thinks Rob's distracted and not really trying, and that detracts from his victory. "Sorry," Rob mumbles, suddenly tired. It's Gabriel's turn to snort. "So what's up?" "Nothing." "Right." "Okay, well, not nothing." He musters the energy to turn around in his chair, twisting uncomfortably. Leveling his gaze at Rob, he lifts an enquiring eyebrow. "I was just thinking, well." Rob fiddles with his can tab, pulling the metal back and forth. "You're lease is up next month, right?" "Yesss.." Gabriel has a sudden inkling as to where this conversation will go and debates ending it before it starts. "And you spend most of your time here, right?" An affirmative nod and Rob is staring so intently at him. "So why not move in with me? It would save you rent each month, and the house is quieter than the apartment complex." Gabriel stares without thinking for a long moment, mind blank in his head and the web, and Rob doesn't know what he's thinking, which is fine by him because he can't think of anything to say anyway. But then his brain starts working again, and it doesn't like what it's thinking. This. This is a step. A process. Part of that big commitment thing, and he doesn't know why he's beginning to freak, because there's no one he'd rather be with, but the living together means the fights and the yelling and the constant contact with his mind and his powers and that lack of privacy that Kaitlyn couldn't handle, and he likes having a sanctuary he can retreat to when things with Rob get too intense, and what if Rob suddenly decides one day that he can't handle things, and then it all goes to hell and Gabriel has no home, and- "And I can tell by the complete and utter panic that I should have gone with my first instinct and not said anything," Rob interrupts the mental rant by standing quickly and awkwardly from the hammock, setting his beer can down on the nearest flat surface and heading for the door again. "Wait," Gabriel's out of his chair, too, and feeling bad, because this is his neuroses and it's not Rob's fault, and Rob's the most wonderful guy on the planet, and Gabriel's not being fair, but he's really freaking out here and it's all been too perfect and he doesn't want to fuck it up- "Just, wait for a second, and let me-adjust." He's breathing heavy and there's this tension, and he's resisting the urge to walk away from the house for a few days, but he can't do that because this is too important, and he wants to, wants to put his complete and total trust in Rob and make him understand how much he loves him, but the words aren't coming. "Hey, it's all right. I'm not going anywhere." Rob's close, the scent of grass and sweat and flesh, and he wants this everyday. There's a thought in Rob's mind, one of showing Gabriel through actions and not words because he knows Gabriel doesn't trust words, empty words that can so easily deceive. A thought that he wouldn't have asked if he didn't mean it, if he didn't want this to be the rest of his life, and that's when Gabriel finally knows he can trust him and his intentions completely because Rob is nothing if not honest with himself. Admits that maybe this wouldn't be such a bad life, and now Rob's smiling at him, tension draining away like the sweat drying on his chest, still half-naked, and then Gabriel's thinking of how the wooden deck might be uncomfortable but there are plush rugs in the bathroom, envisions cold tiles under his fingers as he arches his back, the thought of Rob's mouth so hot against his dick and the slippery slick slide of tongues and hands and heated flesh pressed together. Then Rob is dragging him into the house before he can suggest anything else, yard work forgotten. And Gabriel knows this wouldn't be such a bad life after all. Finis. I mean it this time.