Page 134 of The Good Vampire's Guide to Blood & Boyfriends
“HeyBrokeback Mountain,I’m trying to study,” someone said. A few people snickered, followed by more shushing.
Flustered and pulled out of his Cole tunnel vision, Brennan was suddenly much more aware of the eyes on them.
“Look,” he tried, “let’s just step into the storage room.”
“No,” said Cole, and Brennan fucking loved him. “I’ve been letting people tell me what to do my whole life, from Mari telling me who to be friends with to my parents planning out the first eighteen years of my life to the letter to—”
“Seriously, shut up!” someone said.
“Let the boy speak!” said someone else.
A round of affirmative noises andyeahs, and then silence fell. Over Cole’s shoulder, Brennan noted someone was pointing a phone at them, recording.
Cole stepped closer. “But you,” he says. “Younever asked me for anything. Everything I gave you, I wanted to give. I’d give you more. And if you don’t—” He broke off, seemed to gather his determination, and looked Brennan in the eye to finish: “If this is too much, you need to say so.”
Then Cole seemed to be aware of onlookers for the first time, glancing around, nervous.
“Let’s talk in private,” Brennan tried again, softer.
“Cop-out!” Another onlooker.
“Answer the question!”
“Yeah!”
Brennan’s face was burning. He was probably blue.
“It’s not too much. I’m sorry for freaking out so much. I’ve been tied up in hating… certain things about myself, and I didn’t want you to think of me like that. Because you’re the coolest, kindest person, and I’m just me. But you always saw me, right from the beginning.” He blinked rapidly and glanced around the watching crowd. “So can we please go speak in the private room I set up all fancy for what I thought would be me groveling?”
Cole’s face was red, but: “Yeah, let’s do that.”
They ducked into the storage room, people cheering and hooting and shushing one another as they did. Tony gave Brennan a thumbs-up and an exaggerated wink before the door shut behind them.
The old comfort stash room was cozier than ever before, and Brennan’s journal and pamphlets sat prominently on the table. On the floor was a nest of blankets and pillows. Cole took it in, and Brennan forgot to breathe.
But then Cole’s eyes fell back on Brennan, and he half smiled.
“Hey,” Cole said.
“Hey.”
“So.” Cole arched an eyebrow. “What was this about groveling?”
Brennan laughed. “I. I had a letter.”
“Well, go right ahead.”
“I don’t know if I can top all that,” Brennan said, nodding vaguely to Cole’s grand entrance and declaration.
“Mama always said I had a flair for the dramatics. I always thought she was being homophobic.”
Brennan laughed. His heart was light and hopeful. “Does this mean,” he said. “Do you still—?”
“Depends how good this letter is.” But Cole was failing to bite back a smile.
“I’m suddenly feeling like it could have used another round of revision.” Then he blurted, “Have I mentioned you look really good in that suit?”
“Brennan,” Cole scolded, laughing.
