The server came to take their order. Harvard frowned at the menu.
Aiden relaxed, feeling on familiar ground. “Why do you always do this? You know you always look through every item on the menu and then pick the sweetest thing. French toast for him. Oh, and then let’s split the brownie sundae.”
Harvard smiled over the menu at Aiden. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Oh cool,” said Aiden’s random date, still looking at his phone. “Bring three spoons.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow, slightly shocked by his date’s bad manners. “You can’t just share our dessert, Tony.”
“His name is Bruce!” Neil exclaimed in the tone of one sorely tested.
Aiden didn’t even know why Neil was annoyed this time. He was glaring from Harvard to Aiden, and back again. Aiden might well have done something wrong without noticing, but he was confident Harvard had done nothing wrong. Neil was being deeply unreasonable.
“Of course you can share the sundae, Bruce,” Harvard said. “Would you like a spoon, too, Neil?”
“I absolutely wouldn’t!”
Aiden was completely at a loss. Who hated brownie sundaes? What kind of person had Harvard brought into their lives?
Neil visibly made the decision to shake off his gloom, and gave Harvard a smile that made Aiden feel unwell. “Why don’t you share a dessert with me?”
“I already said I’d share a dessert with Aiden,” said Harvard, and then brightened. “I guess I could go for two halves of different desserts.…”
Neil looked dissatisfied with this genius solution. Harvard bit his lip. Aiden’s date was raising his eyebrows at his phone.
The server’s brow crumpled in confusion. “Sorry, how many spoons do you guys need?”
“Many spoons! We need so many spoons! Could you just bring us a lot of spoons and we’ll sort it out later?” Harvard sounded rather frayed.
Harvard never usually sounded frayed. Harvard’s patience was normally infinite.
Aiden had to salvage this double date somehow. He tried his charm offensive, though Neil seemed significantly less affected than he had been five minutes ago.
“Lots of desserts is always the answer, don’t you think, Neil? The great thing about mine and Charles Xavier’s relationship—”
“BRUCE!” snapped Neil.
“Leave me out of this,” muttered Aiden’s random date, texting away.
“The great thing about mine and Quill’s relationship is that he’s always so sweet.”
“Uh-huh,” said Aiden’s date.
“That’s what I think about Neil.” Harvard’s voice was lovely and soothing. “I guess I don’t know how he feels about me.”
Oh God, was this Harvard flirting? He was good at it. Aiden wanted to throw up. He kept smiling.
Neil relaxed, tipped his head, and regarded Harvard with a delighted proprietary air, as though he thought Harvard was really cute and belonged to him. “Oh, you’re all right.”
Neil leaned toward Harvard, and Harvard inclined his body slightly toward Neil’s.
Wow, get a room, thought Aiden. Then: Wait, please don’t.
Neil’s hand was clenched in a fist on the tabletop. Harvard reached out hesitantly and turned Neil’s hand palm up, lacing their fingers together. Neil nudged Harvard in a forgiving manner.
Aiden didn’t see why some couples had to revolt the populace with frenzied displays of public affection.
No, Harvard had a right to hold his boyfriend’s hand in public. Aiden supported him. Actually, Aiden liked displays of public affection himself. Aiden leaned sensuously into his date’s side and nibbled his date’s ear.
His date almost dropped his phone.
“You just bit my ear much too hard!” exclaimed Aiden’s random date.
Aiden rolled his eyes. “Excuse me for being spontaneous and romantic, Thor!”
“Bruce,” murmured Harvard.
“I could actually get into being called Thor,” said Aiden’s random date. “However, I don’t want a pierced ear. Let’s be clear on that.”
The server brought their food and a dozen spoons. Neil glared at his club sandwich.
“Do you often have to remind Aiden of his dates’ names?” Neil asked.
“Um, yeah,” Harvard admitted.
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Not really,” said Harvard. “He always remembers mine.”
Aiden winked at him. “Do I, Harley?”
Harvard threw back his head and laughed. Suddenly, Aiden felt less sick. Harvard was regarding Aiden in his usual warm way, knowing Aiden was incorrigible and embracing that in an ocean of endless affection. With Harvard, and only with Harvard, sometimes being who Aiden was seemed like it could be enough. Aiden’s smile began, for the first time since they’d walked into the diner, to be real.
Until Aiden noticed Neil was looking at them both with that sour expression. Again.
“You know… I’m not feeling that well,” said Neil. “Maybe tonight’s a wash. We still on for bowling on Saturday?”
“Sure! Totally!” Harvard rushed to assure him. “Aiden, do you and Bruce want to come bowling on Saturday?”
Aiden’s random date gave a long, loud whistle.
The whistle was followed by a longer, somehow even louder silence.
“I’m leaving,” announced Neil.
He shoved Harvard, and when Harvard scrambled out of the booth, Neil darted for the door.
“Wait, no,” said Harvard. “Or at least… let me take you home. Neil!”
Harvard ran after him. Aiden wondered if he should go after Harvard, but his random date was in the way. The random date seemed absorbed by his phone, and not inclined to move.
After a time, Aiden began to drum his fingers against the surface of the table.
“Sooo,” said Aiden’s random date. “In love with Harvard, huh?”
“Why would you say that, Steve?” Aiden snarled.
“Because I’ve been here this whole time,” said the random date. “Though I feel people watching from space may also know. How long has that been going on?”
Aiden looked around for Harvard and saw only milkshakes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barry!”
“That long, huh?” said Aiden’s random date. “So everyone else at Kings Row got ‘drowning thoughts of your unattainable love in sexy debauchery,’ and I got ‘incredibly awkward double date’?” He sighed. “Figures.”
There was a pause. Aiden glanced over at Bruce’s profile. Bruce didn’t look up from his phone.
Aiden didn’t actively care about his dates, but he didn’t want them to have a genuinely terrible time. He didn’t want to hurt people like his dad did. Not really.
“Sorry,” mumbled Aiden.
“Oh, don’t be,” said Bruce in mellow tones, waving his phone to illustrate why. “I’ve been commenting live on this whole date as it unfolded. Got a lot of new followers.”
Aiden cracked a smile. “Good for you.”
“When life gives you lemons, post a bitter tirade on social media, I always say!” Bruce put away his phone. “Anyway, I figure you’ll pay for all of this when your roommate comes home after getting dumped.”
“He’s not getting dumped!”
“I’d give it fifty-fifty,” said Bruce. “Anyway, bye. It’s been real, Aiden. Real weird.”
“Later, Rocket,” Aiden said, and Bruce grinned. Aiden didn’t grin back. Aiden had been faking a smile throughout the double date. Aiden found that at the end of this disaster, he could no longer manage to even pretend.
Harvard had been dumped.
Aiden knew as soon as he walked in. For a tall, broad-shouldered guy, Harvard usually walked very softly, as though he didn’t wish to disturb the universe. It was only when he was weighted down with misery that his tread was heavy.
He came into their room and stood in the center of the floor, hands open and helpless. Harvard normally possessed great steadiness of pur
pose, but right now he looked as if he had no idea what to do.
Aiden stared at him, wracked with guilt. He’d always promised himself he would never hurt Harvard. Not Harvard. He truly did not want to hear what had happened.
“What… happened?” he asked.
Harvard stared at the floor. “Uh—I walked Neil home. Well, I more or less chased Neil home. He wouldn’t really look at or talk to me until we reached his porch. Once we were there, he told me… he wasn’t sure we were going to work out as a couple, and he was pretty sure I knew why.”
Aiden wasn’t any good at apologies, which was unfortunate, because he needed to come up with an abject one fast. Aiden didn’t have many rules he lived by, but this was one. He didn’t ever hurt Harvard. He wouldn’t do that.
Except he had.
Neil had been really into Harvard until he met Aiden. It was clear Aiden hadn’t done a good enough job hiding his seething hatred, or his attachment to Harvard. Aiden’s date had figured out how Aiden felt, and Neil must have done so as well. This was all Aiden’s fault.
Into Aiden’s fraught silence, Harvard said, “I don’t know why, though. I told Neil I didn’t. He said that if I figured it out and wanted to see him again, then I could give him a call in a week. That seems like there’s hope, right? I got something badly wrong, but if I knew what it was, I could fix it.”
“Wait,” said Aiden. “What?”
Harvard looked up at the sound of Aiden’s voice, and frowned. “Do you think it was when I snapped at the server about spoons? I read that if you behave badly with the waitstaff when on a date, you’re showing your date who you really are. I should go back to the diner and apologize. I should bring her flowers.”
Aiden was off the hook. He didn’t know why some weird masochistic impulse was telling him to wriggle back onto it.
“You don’t think Neil might have made this dumbass decision because of me?”
“Because you can’t remember your dates’ names?” asked Harvard, a trace of warm amusement creeping into his voice. “You’re a menace, but no. I don’t see any reason why Neil would break up with me because of you. Neil was clear he was breaking up with me because of something to do with me.”
Bruce had been right about everything, except for one factor: Harvard was good, really good, in a way few people could understand. He would never blame Aiden for something if he could blame himself instead.
“God, I just don’t know how to date.” Harvard sighed. “If I’d dated some people before now, maybe I’d understand what to do. Is that why you date around a lot? So if you find someone you like, you won’t mess up?”
Aiden shook his head wordlessly. He hadn’t realized Harvard liked Neil so much.
“Is it all just practice? Like fencing? I don’t know why this is so difficult for me when it comes so easily to you,” said Harvard. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m getting everything wrong.”
Aiden was lounging on the bed, fiddling with Harvard Paw as he sometimes did when he had the urge to go to Harvard or touch him. He patted Harvard Paw on the head. Seeing Harvard this upset made him miserable, too.
“It’s all right,” he told Harvard soothingly. “It is like fencing. Remember when we were little, how you used to have to go over everything the coach taught us with me all over again? You’d move slowly so I could copy you, and tell me what to do every step of the way, and I learned how to mimic every move until I could do it on my own. Dating will start coming naturally to you.”
“Well, it’s not like you can carefully guide me through all the motions of dating,” Harvard said ruefully. Then his tone changed, becoming the captain’s voice, the one he used when he started to see a plan forming. “I mean… could you?”
Their familiar room seemed to tilt right into an alternate dimension. Aiden thought for a dazed moment that perhaps he hadn’t heard Harvard right. Or possibly Aiden was having a hallucination. It had been a difficult day.
“What?”
“Could you teach me to date?”
Harvard was looking at him expectantly, as if he’d really asked Aiden that question. As if Aiden really had to answer.
Aiden said, “No!”
“Do you think I’m hopeless?” asked Harvard.
His shoulders slumped again, the light that had woken in him at the thought of a strategy extinguished. Aiden wanted to bring it back.
Aiden cleared his throat and said, “I don’t think you’re hopeless.”
A light flickered in Harvard’s face. “Then—couldn’t you help me?”
“I…,” said Aiden.
His heart was beating too hard, the continuous flutter of a trapped thing that couldn’t resign itself to captivity. It wouldn’t work, he told himself. But what if it could? No matter what Aiden sometimes imagined, he wouldn’t ever really try to date Harvard. Deep down, Aiden had always known that was a dream. He knew where romance always led: the sound of a slammed door and a sports car in a driveway. Trying to have everything meant losing it all.
They had to stay friends. If they were friends, they could be friends forever. Only… this might buy Aiden a little time, to get used to the idea of Harvard with someone else. To have something for himself. He couldn’t keep Harvard, but he could keep a memory.
This wouldn’t hurt Harvard. Aiden would be helping him. Harvard had asked him to. Anytime the practice dating started to feel too real, Aiden could remind himself that this was all for someone else. Harvard was only doing this to get Neil back. If that was what Harvard wanted, Aiden would get it for him.
Hardly letting himself think about what he was doing, Aiden nodded.
Harvard’s whisper was almost wondering. “Would you really?”
Aiden’s throat was dry, but he got the words out anyway. “I told you already: Whatever you ask me for, the answer is yes.”
17: HARVARD
Aiden was sitting on Harvard’s bed, fiddling with his teddy bear, a lock of hair escaped from his gracefully messy bun and curving into his face. His eyes were fixed on the wall behind Harvard’s head.
Harvard kept reliving the moment on Neil’s porch, when Neil had looked at Harvard with what seemed almost like pity, though there was anger there, too. As if Harvard had got things so wrong it was frustrating, when Harvard had thought with Neil there was a chance of getting things right. He wanted that chance back.
“Thanks so much,” Harvard told Aiden. “This is going to be great.”
“Yes,” Aiden said at last in a slow, thoughtful tone. “This is a good idea. You know how dating works in theory. You read your mom’s magazines, no matter how much I implore you not to. But theoretical experience is no substitute for practical experience.”
Harvard nodded, already trying to think of exactly how they should do this. “You can show me how dating works. Practically.”
Aiden’s voice was somewhat distant. He was sitting still. Perhaps he was planning, too. He was very good at seeing the weak points in a plan or an opponent. He was the smartest person Harvard knew, and Harvard had never been so glad to have Aiden on his team.
“Sure. This is my area of expertise. You can practice dating with me.” Aiden’s pause lasted a fraction of a second. “For Neil.”
Something about that made unease drum a warning beat in Harvard’s chest, but Aiden was right. Harvard needed to get better at dating so he could win back Neil. Second-guessing a plan was fatal. A captain had to be confident.
“Here’s the most important thing to remember when we’re planning,” Harvard said, falling back on what he was certain of. “The thing that can’t change. I don’t want to—mess anything up or blur the lines between us. We’re best friends.”
“Always,” said Aiden. “That’s the most important thing. You’re the most important thing. Trust me, I know how dating works. It doesn’t matter, and this wouldn’t even be real dating. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. I promise you.”
Harvard nodded slowly. Right. Of cour
se dating didn’t mean anything to Aiden. It was the fact that Harvard was so clumsy at this, so new, that was making him hesitate.
Actually, the more Harvard thought about the idea, the more he thought it was his best plan ever.
Learning how to date was so uncomfortable and stressful. Harvard worried at every turn that he was doing it wrong, that he wasn’t living up to other people’s hopes of what he could be. Aiden wouldn’t have any false expectations of Harvard. Aiden knew Harvard, everything about him, dreams to doubts, in-jokes to night terrors.
“Well…,” said Harvard. “I would like to try. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure,” Aiden said.
As easy as that.
“How…” Harvard swallowed. “What would we do? If we were dating. Let’s plan it out. I wanna come up with a dating strategy.”
Aiden’s mouth formed a thoughtful shape.
“We take it step by step. I’ll pick you up, we’ll go on a date or two. And I’ll teach you some moves. If you want me to.”
Harvard had made no mention of moves, but they were part of dating. He was aware of that.
Harvard suddenly didn’t feel equipped to deal with this situation. This had always been Aiden’s territory, and Harvard had always stayed away, as though it were a place on a map marked Here Be Dragons. He’d asked Aiden to help him, and he did really want Aiden’s help. Very badly.
Harvard swallowed and said, “What else?”
“I suppose you could walk me to class,” suggested Aiden.
Harvard raised an eyebrow. “I do walk you to class. Otherwise you don’t go to class.”
They exchanged a smile.
“Ah, but if we were dating, you would carry my books,” Aiden said.
“Why aren’t you carrying my books?” protested Harvard.
“Because you’re a gentleman!” Aiden said triumphantly, and hesitated. A new thought seemed to occur to him. “If you wanted to start slow you could… hold my hand.”
That was starting slow. The idea of it shouldn’t have hit Harvard with shattering force. He really was hopeless at this dating thing. Harvard bit his lip, not able to help himself.
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