Chapter Text
He’s pathetic and he knows he’s pathetic. He hadn’t been able to cancel the caterer so now he’s got lobster and steak in his fridge. Looking at the neat little containers had made him want to throw up, and really he should just throw it away because he’s definitely not going to be able to eat it.
The part of him that grew up on the edge of without won’t let him waste the food. There are starving children in Africa Scott, eat your peas.
He thought maybe if he could leave the penthouse, once he started moving he might be able to just follow the pull of Kip through the door of the Kingfisher. Walk in and just exist in the same space as Kip and his friends and have at least done something brave.
He’d managed more than he’d thought possible. He put the Kingfisher into his phone, navigating there on foot mainly. Scott Hunter on the subway might not even make it to social media, it wasn’t that unusual. Even if he usually only makes the trek from his place to MSG on game days.
He arrives at his destination and is unable to cross the threshold. He sees Kip through the window and is frozen. The bar was quiet and empty except for Kip and the warm little group that surrounded him, and it should have been better that there was no one else there to see. Scott should have been able to walk into the space, he already knew Maria from Straw+Berry a little. And Kip had said nearly everyone else would know about the smoothies.
Scott is afraid to his bones, if he opened the door and walked in, saw Kip look at him, he’d do what he’d become accustomed to and fall into his arms. He wasn’t sure he’d stop there, Scott could imagine himself on his knees in front of Kip and all his friends. Begging forgiveness, for Kip to use him, to be loved.
And Scott knows he fucked up. He ruined his chance with Kip and does not deserve a second one. He can’t open the door and walk in like a normal person. So he retreats across the street, finding a space in a doorway where he’s certain the streetlights don’t reach where he can watch Kip blow out the candle on a singular cupcake.
He knows Maria and Elena, and thinks the older man must be Kip’s dad. One of the guys must be Shawn, but there’s several people that Kip has never mentioned and it’s making Scott want to crawl out of his own skin watching them. A dark and bloody something crawling from the standing husk of himself like a snake shedding skin or a butterfly from a chrysalis. He hears someone say “thank you Kyle” in a sing-song voice, and sees Kip smile at a man who hands him a bottle of beer. He thinks maybe their fingers brush against each other for maybe a little longer than necessary.
Scott stays rooted to the spot, suffering and burning with jealousy. He should leave, he should just walk across the street and open the door. But he can’t so that so he forces himself to stay, to watch and to suffer because he deserves nothing else if he can’t just fucking be normal and…
Kip is leaving the bar, shrugging into his coat as he steps out into the night, the older man is with him. A chorus of boos follow him out the open door of the bar.
“I have to work in the morning!” Kip’s voice carries across the street. Maria spills out of the bar and wraps him in a hug.
“Happy Birthday, Kippers!” She grabs his face and plants an exaggerated kiss on both of his cheeks.
“Oh my god. Drink some water!” But he returns the hug. “Love you, goodnight!”
The older man joins Kip on the sidewalk and they start walking towards the train. Scott should leave, should turn the other way and go home, call his car service to come pick him up. Instead he waits just a moment before slipping out of the darkened doorway and trailing along behind Kip and his father.
“C’mon, Dad. Let’s get you home to bed.”
“You wound me Kip, you’re the one with the bedtime.”
The conversation trails behind Kip and his father, leaving bread crumbs for Scott to follow. Scott is going to turn around, he’s going to turn at the next corner in the opposite direction. There’s no way Scott can keep walking, a careful quiet distance from the warm bubble of Kip’s laughter.
There’s no way that Scott can descend the stairs to the train, and even if he does there will be nowhere to hide on the platform. Kip will see him. Kip will see him, and know that Scott is broken, deeply fucked up and probably someone he should never speak to or look at again.
There’s enough other people on the stairs that Kip doesn’t turn around at the sound of Scott’s feet clattering down the stairs. Panic drives Scott to run to catch up because what if they catch the train and get away from him.
Scott can see Kip’s dad at the far end of the platform. He can see Kip’s shoulders and the bend of his knee where he’s leaning against the pillar. Scott lingers by the stairs, turned slightly away, hoping that it will be enough to avoid attention.
He’ll let the train carry them away, he will. Scott slides onto the train, obviously not in the same car, far enough back that he can’t see them through the windows in the doors. He sits, bent over his knees as the train rolls through dark tunnels, tries to sit so he can see the platforms as they pass, hoping he’ll be able to see when Kip gets to his stop and make it off the train without getting caught.
He holds his head in his hands in the next tunnel, the bright lights in the car flicker as they pass over the connector in the rails. He’s going to get off at the next stop regardless, turn away and catch the train back towards his empty penthouse.
Panic rises again, he did leave the train intending to give up on this insanity. But Kip and his father are climbing the stairs at the far end of the platform, headed up to the street. He stands, rooted in the spot until Kip’s feet disappear. And he should just stay until the train comes to carry him back to the city but instead he moves, following and trying not to run.
He will get to the street and they will be gone, turned a corner and vanished. But when he emerges into the night he can see Kip bathed in a circle of light halfway down the block.
Scott follows, and it will be impossible soon not to be noticed as they move away from the busy streets and into the quiet corners and darkened stretches of residential sidewalks. He lingers at corners, letting Kip build a lead that feels safe, that feels like Kip will be able to slip away from him and then this will be over finally.
His father unlatches the gate, holds it open with a flourish for Kip to pass through. Scott stops, so far away that he must be hidden in the dark under a tree. They disappear under the porch, light in the hallway spilling out just enough to highlight the smile on Kip’s face before they disappear.
Scott stands on the sidewalk opposite and a house and a half up the block. The light in the front hall is extinguished and a light comes on through the second floor window. That could be the father’s room though. Scott has no way of knowing, and now there is nothing left to do. He can’t walk up to the door and knock, should just leave. Walk away and save whatever shred of decency and dignity he has left.
But he stands there, kicking his toe into the grass at the base of the tree he’s hiding under. The light upstairs shuts off. The house is dark and quiet, the street empty. He stands in the dark, just breathing in the night air.
He looks up at the sky, tries to draw air into the deepest parts of his lungs. He knows where Kip lives now, but he can never ever come back here. He has to strangle this part of himself, to keep Kip safe from him.
Scott looks again at the dark windows, pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls the car service. He stares at the house, trying to memorize the shape of it until the black SUV pulls up 30 minutes later.
The air in the car is hot, stuffy and it makes him more aware of how cold he feels, the ache in his thighs and spine where the cold has settled.
“Home, please.”
“Of course.” The driver pulls away, the interior light dims and then shuts off.