Realist

Montag drank his coffee with his eyes fixed on Alex's face. The guy looked so happy to just be there with him and his fulfilled expression ate away at Montag's soul. He didn't want to keep on deepening their relationship just to break his heart at the end, but it was so hard to leave. Alex brought him the kind of comfort and peace he hadn't felt since before his mother's death. He wanted to soak on his light for a little longer, he wanted to believe someone genuinely cared about him.

"Do I have something on my face?" Alex's voice pulled him out of his thoughts

"No, you're just too cute"

Alex choked on his juice and Montag burst out laughing. He found that he liked getting him all flustered and nervous.

"Don't say stuff like that" Alex cleared his throat "Are you sure you just want coffee?"

"I don't work today and I didn't bring my pills so I have no reason to have breakfast"

"Pills? Like vitamins?"

"No, my Lexapro, I have Depression"

"Since when? You look so calm and collected"

"You must know depression is silent. I've been struggling with it since I was 11 but was diagnosed at 13"

"that's basically half of your life"

"How long have you been living with anxiety?"

"Since Elementary School" Alex got up and walked towards the sink to clean the dishes "at first it was hard to separate my anxiety from my autism"

"I'll clean that" Montag took the sponge from his hand and kissed him on the cheek "go sit on the couch"

Montag heard him walk away and took a shivering breath. He shouldn't have told him about his Depression. Alex's curious nature inevitably meant that he was going to be bombarded with questions he didn't want to answer. Every time Alex spoke about his diagnosis, he did it with such naturality and ease that it made him feel bad for being secretive around his own disorder. He wasn't ashamed of having Depression, he just didn't want people pitying him.

"You don't have to tell me, you know?"

Alex spoke softly and Montag realized he was right behind him. He felt his arms wrap around his torso and squeezed him tightly. The tears pooled in his eyes, shocking him. He hadn't cried in years. Alex's hug didn't feel forced, it didn't feel like pity. Montag felt a sort of warmth spreading from his torso to his limbs. He turned to face Alex and kissed him softly on the lips.

"I wanna go home. I'm feeling uncomfortable and I don't want to lash out on you"

After kissing Alex one last time, Montag left. He felt like jumping out of his body. He despised getting in touch with his feelings. Every time he did that all the thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness came flooding back. Every unanswered question.

Why wasn't I enough?

Being a realist, he knew his mother died because of her mental instability. His existence played no part in her decision. When he was old enough his foster mother gave him the stuff Child Services kept from their apartment. His mother didn't leave a suicide note but she left her medical history and he learned she had Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder. After reading all her documents and googling nonstop he realized she was tortured by demons she couldn't control. That made him hate his father even more. His mother had abandonment issues and his father trampled all over them leaving everything destroyed.

But knowing the truth didn't prevent him from feeling like shit. His mom was supposed to love him and she left him. He did everything in his power, everything a kid could do, to make her happy and it wasn't enough. He wasn't enough.

The journey home was gloomy. Montag felt numb. He'd woken up uncharacteristically happy, with Alex's sweet scent surrounding him, his soft snores like music to his ears. He hadn't dreamed, hadn't seen his mom dangling from the ceiling, hadn't felt cold and unloved.

Relying on someone else to bring him stability mimicked his mother's behavior. The idea of being like her frightened him. He couldn't let himself get lost in his feelings to the point of losing his sanity. He was in a constant battle with his heritage, the product of someone who felt too deeply and someone who didn't feel deep enough.

He arrived at his apartment, took a long shower and ate a slice of bread so he could take his pill. He lay on his bed looking at the ceiling, trying to regain control of his thoughts and feelings. He just wanted to call Alex, to hear his voice, to regain some of that elusive warmth he felt with his presence.

At the end he ignored his desires and focused on being distracted. Music was always an excellent way of losing himself in the moment. When he started playing piano, he hated being good at it, he didn't want to have anything in common with his father. But he just couldn't fight with how at ease he felt playing, how every feeling just evaporated into music. Playing was an outlet for his emotions and he learned to love it without connecting it to his dad.

Night came and Montag was still composing. The weight on his chest felt lighter and his mind was clearer. He no longer felt like an addict trying to get his dose of Alex and he congratulated himself on his self-control. He knew Alex probably texted him, he left his apartment in a hurry and anyone with a brain and half a heart would be worried after that. He went to check on his phone when he heard the doorbell ringing.

After looking through the peephole and seeing Alex he thought about pretending not to be home, but the guy seemed so worried, his eyes puffy and his hands fidgeting nonstop. It wasn't Montag's intention to make him worry. He wasn't even aware he could elicit that reaction from someone. He opened the door slowly.

Alex's warm body collided with his and his gut-wrenching sobs shook his whole being. Montag felt him trembling and his hot tears dampening his t-shirt. Alex tried to control his breathing but he was evidently having a hard time doing it.

"I-I-I thought something happened to you!" he was stuttering and his voice was desperate "I sent you hundreds of messages!"

Montag took him by the hand and dragged him inside. Slowly and without saying anything he made Alex lay on his bed and took a handkerchief from his closet to dry his tears. After leaving soft kisses on his cheeks Montag held his face in his hands and forced him to make eye contact.

"Babe, I'm here, I'm okay" he took Alex's hands and placed them on his chest "I'm alive"

Alex clutched his t-shirt in his hands and pulled him close until their lips touched. Montag dragged him until Alex was seated on his thighs and slowly devoured him, their tongues met in the middle and he explored eagerly every inch of his mouth. Alex straddled him so their chests could touch and buried his hands on his hair. Montag felt the saltiness of his tears mixing with their saliva, soft sobs rocking his body. He broke the kiss and looked him in the eye.

"I feel like an idiot, I made a big deal out of nothing" Alex whispered, ashamed.

"No, no. I should have known you'd worry. I told you I had depression and sprinted out and then I didn't answer your texts. It's okay to be concerned"

"I don't know what came over me, I had to see you. Sorry for barging in"

"You're welcome any time you want"

Alex slid off his thighs and took several deep breaths while pacing his apartment. Montag knew he was trying to regain his composure so he just watched. After a couple of minutes Alex finally dried his tears and sat next to him on the bed.

"I want you to know that I'm not going to force you to talk about your issues" He took his hands and squeezed them gently "But please, don't push me away. I'm okay with staying on the sidelines as long as I get to be with you"

"Don't you think this is too heavy for the type of relationship I'm willing to have with you?"

"You're not dumb. You probably know I'm well beyond infatuation zone with you"

"Alex-"

"No, let me talk. Call me a hopeless idiot or whatever, but I'm not willing to give you up. In my 22 years of life I've never met anyone who made me feel what you make me feel and I want to be greedy" He sighed "I honestly don't give a fuck if you want to hump and dump. I'll take whatever you can give me and I ask you to please not make decisions for me. I'm an adult and I want you and I take full responsibility for whatever outcome this has. I promise I won't burden you with my feelings. Please let me be with you".