NaNoWriMo Day 2

[nwhiker]

5435 / 50000

School would not start until the beginning of September, of course, but Aidan was in his office or the biology lab every day for a few weeks before then, getting final orders in for any materials he'd need, taking care of the aquariums that contained some of the plants they'd use for various experiements,evaluation new software for virtual dissections, and other tasks like that. He enjoyed the time of year, the anticipation of what is to come, getting to know new students, experiencing new class dynamics. He was especially looking forward to a new class he'd be teaching, offered only to the more advanced seniors, on DNA. He'd be working with one of the chemistry teachers on it, and they were both excited at the prospect.

He stretched, and noticed he was hungry. He'd worked through lunch, he supposed, and it was already mid-afternoon. He figured he'd leave in an hour or so, he was almost done here anyhow, once he got a clean install on the database he wanted to use to track class materials etc.

Someone knocked, and he sighed and called out "Come in." When he looked up, Chris was by his desk.

Aidan stood up, flustered. "Uh, hi! I, uh, didn't expect you, uh..." He held out his hand, pulled it back, held it out again when he saw Chris had been going to take it. They shook hands quickly, and Aidan bit the inside of his cheek to try to steady himself.

"I figured you'd be around here somewhere," Chris said. "Lab's been updated since I was here."

"Oh. Yeah, that's right. Yeah, it has, four years ago. I, um..."

Chris looked at him, a smile on his face. "Aidan, I'm sorry to intrude. I wanted to see you again, and since we didn't exchange email or phone numbers, I came here. I hope you aren't too upset with me."

Aidan blinked a few times. "No! No, not at all! I'm glad you did." He smiled, almost sheepish. "I actually considered sending you, you know, an actual letter, but even with the address just Chris sounded too stupid, and I didn't."

"Oh. Well, formal indroductions are in order then. Chris Gallant." He held out his hand again. Aidan took it. "Like God's Knight Gallant?"

Knight Gallant was a local preacher, fundamentalist, firebrand, and very very much a hater of gays and lesbians, whose deaths he prayed for every Sunday in his large north Seattle church.

"My father."

"What? Oh. I'm sorry. I'm didn't know, I was just..." He was embarrassed. He'd noted the name, but hadn't thought that... Oh god. He blushed. He was babbling, remembering some of the more hateful things Knight Gallant had said about men like him.

"Aidan. I haven't spoken to him in years. I don't agree with him, I'm not like him." He'd spoken quickly, with urgency.

Aidan took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I brought that up. I..." He took another deep breath. "Aidan Waters."

"Nice to meet you, Aidan."

"Nice to meet you, Chris."

"Now that we've met, I'm not losing you again. Do you have any idea how horrible it was to come back here? Give me your email address, phone number, and whatever, please!" He was smiling.

"Bad years here?" he asked, grabbing paper and handing Chris some too.

Chris looked up from writing in his phone number. "Not too bad. Just... like middle school and high school are, right? Not the best time of my life, to say the least."

"I suppose," said Aidan. "Middle school was bad."

They exchanged papers and Aidan folded it and carefully put it in his jeans.

"Now that that is done, will you come to dinner tonight?" asked Chris.

"I..."

"Any other time is fine, of course, but I just figured I'd ask."

Aidan knew he was grinning like a fool. "No, I'd love to. Tonight would be great."

"Good. Can you leave now?"

He laughed. "Not quite yet. I have got to get this database software at the very least installed, I can set things up tomorrow, but I need to get this done today. I don't think it'll take me more than an hour."

His stomach growled then, and they both heard it. Chris grinned.

"Budge over," said Chris. "Let me see."

It took Chris, Aidan could tell, half the time it would have taken him. The database installation went quickly and without hitch, and Chris tested the bar coding for him, and customised the tables when Aidan explained what he was trying to accomplish.

"Thank you. You made it look so easy. I don't quite understand how that software works, so, umm, yeah..."

Chris laughed. "I wrote it... well, in part! Now will you come to dinner?"

"Sure," said Aidan, glancing at his watch. It wasn't quite 4 p.m., and that felt early for dinner, but Chris seemed to want him to come over right away.

They walked out of the science building onto the large, wooded campus. It was almost empty, only a few cars were in the lot. Aidan glanced at the Nissan Leaf parked next to his Subaru.

"Yours?" he asked.

"Yeah. There is a charging station at work, and at my condo. I can't go much anywhere else with it, and I bike to work most days, but I needed a car or some sort and this works."

"You don't road trip much, huh?"

"God no. Ugh. Memories of trips with my father." He shuddered visibly. "But if I have to go to Portland or Vancouver or something, I just rent a car."

"I suppose," said Aidan.

"Let me guess," said Chris, "your family took long trips when you were a kid, with Niff and you sitting in the backseat poking each other. You camped, and had a great time in Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and even went back East once or twice... How am I doing?"

Aidan shrugged, and opened his car door. "Pretty good actually." He felt ashamed for some reason he couldn't quite get. Maybe like he had lived a sterotype, to Chris, and that rankled.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make fun of you or anything."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"I do worry about it. I never had that, you know? My family is a bunch of... well, you know. I didn't mean to sound mocking when I'm in fact envious." He was staring at the ground, playing with his keys. He sighed loudly. "Let's do this again, ok?" Aidan heard him take a deep breath. "No, I haven't done any roadtrips as an adult. I'd love to, but I have no experience. So having a car that can go more than 100 miles away from home hasn't been an issue so far."

Aidan smiled. "We pretty much went on a long roadtrip every summer. And it wasn't just me and Niff, we have a brother."

"Oh?"

"Michael. He's a carpenter, lives in Oregon."

"And you're the?"

"Youngest. Michael is 38, Niff is 36, and I'm the baby at 34. You?"

"Also the youngest. Two older sisters, two older brothers." He took a breath. "I'm 26, by the way."

"A fine age to be."

"Glad you think so. Follow me home?"

"Sure."

He got in his car. 26. Which meant that Chris was eight younger than him, if he even was gay, or interested in Aidan. He'd asked him to come for dinner... there was that, but it didn't have to mean, well, anything.

And eight years was a long time, he reflected, as he followed Chris off campus and back to his place. He remembered being eight. It was about then that he'd first started strongly suspecting he wasn't like everyone else. He shook his head. Too young. Chris was too young. If he wanted to date, he needed to find someone his own age. Someone at least 30. He'd have dinner with Chris, and that would be that.

At they walked into the condo, Chris turned toward Aidan and said, "Please tell me you aren't deathly allergic to shellfish. Or that you hate bacon. Or that you don't eat bread, or you hate raspberries or almonds..."

Aidan shook his head. "I'm not deathly allergic to anything, I love almonds, bacon, and bread. And raspberries. Nothing to worry about."

Chris leaned on the door he'd just closed. "That's what you think. I've never cooked for anyone before."

Aidan felt a slow blush creep up his neck, to his cheeks. A quick look at Chris showed him to be pink as well, and he was biting his lip. It took an effort, but Aidan managed a smile. "Well, I'm flattered. And I'm sure it'll all be fine. It certainly smells good in here."

Chris's voice was mournful. "That's just bacon. Bacon is always good."

"Right," said Aidan. "And anything with bacon in it is good, by definition. So whatever it is that you're preparing, it'll be good because it has bacon in it!" And because, he thought, but did not say, you bothered to make it for me, for whatever reason that is.

"Thanks," said Chris. "Do you want some wine? Or is it too early? I'm sorry, do you even drink?"

"It's a bit early, but oh well," he said. "I'd love some wine."

He followed Chris into the kitchen, all stainless appliances, cherry cabinets, and granite countertops. It was, he knew, what his brother called "generic upscale kitchen".

The generic stopped with the furnishing, though. This was obviously a kitchen that was used, often, and Aidan thought looking around, despite Chris's misgivings, well. He himself barely cooked, subsiding on take out from PCC, scrambled eggs, and other easy meals, but he recognised the sense of personal organisation that told him that Chris had made this kitchen his own.

"A Riesling all right?"

"Perfect."

Chris uncorked the bottle that had been chilling in a bucket, and poured them each a glass of the wine.

"Cheers!" he said, and took a sip of the wine. It was cold, and perfumed, and just sweet enough.

"I know it's a rather sweet wine," said Chris, an apology in his voice. "But I do tend to like sweeter wines, I hope it's ok."

Aidan laughed. "Oh my god, I thought I was the only one. Do you like beer?"

"Gah. No. Much too bitter. I think I'm the only one in this whole area who doesn't though."

"No, that's two of us. And as far as wine is concerned, sweeter is better. I haven't quite gotten to the point of drinking dessert wines with dinner, but I've thought of it."

Chris grinned. "I've got some ice wine for dessert."

"I'll look forward to it."

He perched on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, and watched as Chris continued preparing dinner. He sipped his wine, and wondered at how hesitant Chris seemed when on the field, he was assertive, and known never to take any crap from anyone.

"Humm..." he said as Chris chopped mushrooms.

"What?"

"That knife work is way too fast for me to risk a sortie to steal a mushroom."

"Yeah, you'd lose a finger." He put down his knife. "There."

"Thank you," said Aidan, helping himself to a mushroom. "OK, you may not cook for other people, but you do cook, that I can tell."

"Yeah, I do. For myself, mostly. I took some classes when I was in college." He pushed a few slices of apples towards Aidan, who didn't turn them down. "I'd always thought I'd, like, entertain a lot, and have loads of friends, and cook for everyone and all that, but I never really got around to it." He shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad you asked me," Aidan said, eating some apple. That explained the nervousness, and showing up with dinner plans at 4 p.m. It also, he thought, gave some insight into why someone who loved soccer as much as Chris did, and who was in excellent physical condition chose to be a solitary referee rather than play on a team.

Chris topped off their glasses, and came to sit next to Aidan. The kitchen smelled delicious, of mussels and Calvados and bacon. He'd popped a loaf of bread into the oven to warm up, and it looked like he might actually be starting to relax.

"I'm glad you came," he said.

Aidan nodded, keeping like a refrain in the back of his mind the words 'twenty-six, twenty-six, twenty-six', "I'm gald I came too. This smells wonderful."

When dinner was ready, Chris dished them both up big bowls of mussels swimming in cream, calvados and sprinkled with bacon. He broke the bread into big chunks, and Aidan thought that it was a good thing that he had missed lunch because he was very very hungry and there was plenty of hot delicious food.

They ate with their fingers, tossing the empty mussel shells into a big bowl, and the pile of empties got bigger and bigger, and sopping up the sauce with the bread. Between mouthfuls, and sometimes with their mouths full, they talked and laughed, and told stories about their time on opposite sides of the divide at the ForrestLake School.

Since they'd eaten so early, it was early when they finished. They ended up going out and walking down by the river for an hour or so, still talking, enjoying the late evening, and watching to see if they could see the first signs of autumn in the late summer nature.

The sun was setting as they stood watching some ducks swim by, and Aidan felt his face was sore from smiling and laughing. He looked over at Chris, and said, "Look, I should probably tell you now, so you know, I'm gay."

Then he looked away, staring back at the ducks, watching as they suddenly took flight, spooked by something he did not notice.

Chris reached out to touch his arm. "Aidan, I knew that. I'm not sure how, it probably filtered from somewhere."

"Oh." He was out, had been for years, it wasn't a secret.

"But now, I'm not sure if you know that I am?"

He started. He hadn't known, and the impact of what that must have meant, considering who Chris's father was, struck him.

"Oh my god. Your parents?"

"Pretty bad," he said, and Aidan could hear the bitterness in his voice. "I'll tell you some day. Right now, lets go back to my place to have dessert, all right?"