Real Love

Terry stood in the bakery, facing perhaps the coldest and most unwelcoming baker he'd ever known.
It was nine-thirty in the morning on a weekend. Normally he wouldn't be awake by now but was forced up by the constant knocking from Chanse at his door. The teacher practically begged for him to spend the day with him, but right before Terry could slam the door in his face he was given the promise of free food, his only weakness.
Chanse had nothing but praise for this bakery, saying that the owner was nice and that the food was even nicer. Up close, Terry found the owner to be the opposite. He had a gloomy look on his face, a permanent scowl. There were hints of smile lines, perhaps what he used to be, but that definitely wasn't now. Chanse seemed to caught on to the tension, quickly intervening and ordering for the both of them. The baker's eyes warmed when they turned to Chanse, something that wasn't lost on Terry.
"Sorry, he's been going through a pretty rough time," Chanse sheepishly said once they sat down.
"I can see that," Terry murmured. He took a sip of his iced coffee. "I'll let it slide, though. Guy makes good coffee."
"I told you!"
Terry smirked and leaned back in his seat. "So what's the plan today?" he asked. "You wanted to hang out so bad. You better not have hoped I would do all the planning unless you want to watch Seinfeld with me."
"No, of course not," Chanse laughed, only to quickly tense up. "N-Not that watching Seinfeld with you is bad! It's the opposite, actually! I-I-" He forced himself to stop before things got worse. Taking a small breath, he said, "I just wanted to spend time with you. Maybe walk around the town? Go to the mall, or something? See Valentine?"
"Yeah right," Terry chuckled. "Clearly you still don't know me if you think I want to spend my weekend walking. I don't have the energy to put up with Valentine today, and I'm not letting you anywhere near the water." Getting up from his seat, he picked up his coffee and motioned for Chanse to also get up. "Come on. Let's go to the grocery store. We'll pick out bad movies to watch and get some snacks to go with it. Maybe you can cook dinner too."

Terry was always an enigma to Chanse. He was a talented teacher despite his bleak outlook; he thrived on being alone when so many people were scared of it; and he was always able to see through Chanse and call him out. Perhaps that's what intrigued him the most. He had spent years building a wall and perfecting his smiling mask, but each and every time Terry had been able to see through it without a second thought.
It had been half a year since Terry saved him from drowning, and he never forgot. In fact, he'd been thinking about it constantly. That look on Terry's face, those raw emotions while he screamed for him to be himself. No hiding behind a mask, no pretending everything was okay.
Just concern and rage. Real feelings.
Chanse thought about it again as he watched Terry decide between movies. He had found his heart beating faster and faster whenever he was around him, be it at school or even right here. He tried to keep the feelings down, to dismiss them and believe them to be admiration. But it wasn't, and he knew it. It was captivation. Respect.
Love.

"This is a lot like last time, isn't it?" Terry yawned from the couch. His arms were crossed, his legs on the table besides their empty dishes, Chanse beside him as they watched the second movie he had picked.
"How could I forget?" chuckled Chanse. And it was true. Even right now as the ended the day with some movies he kept thinking back to the first time they did this, how they fell asleep against each other, how he came to terms with his feelings. He could hardly focus on the movie, instead spacing out while twiddling his thumbs together. Until he felt something against his shoulder. Blinking, he looked to see Terry having fallen asleep against his shoulder. Chanse caught his breath. Should he wake him up? If he moved would that wake him? He looked at the peaceful expression and smiled under his breath. It really is just like last time, isn't it? He was captivated with Terry's slumbering figure more than the movie. The way that normally exhausted face was now so content, the quiet breathing, those features everyone called flaws, ones Chanse instead found to be beautiful. Without realizing it, his hand was against the older man's cheek, his thumb brushing against it, feeling the transition from stubble to smooth skin. His fingers went higher, brushing some hair out of Terry's eyes. He didn't stir, instead moving closer to Chanse for comfort.
His heart was beating so fast. They were so close to each other, just a breath apart. If only it could stay like this forever, but he knew, deep down, that that was merely a fantasy. Terry would never feel the same way, but if he could at least have moments like this... if he could be greedy just once... then maybe it would be okay.
Chanse leaned closer while tilting Terry's face upward. Their lips were close, a paper's width apart. He found himself trembling.
"I love you," he whispered before letting their lips touch.
Terry's eyes opened slowly.
He put a hand on the younger teacher's chest to balance himself and promptly pulled himself away. "What are you doing?" he asked as he wiped off the kiss from his lips.
"I..." Chanse was at a loss for words, his arms still in the air, frozen in their caress.
Terry looked at him, then to the wall. He sighed and moved to sit away from him.
"What did you say before you did that?" he asked softly.
"I love you," Chanse whispered.
Terry was silent for a moment. He wasn't thrilled or blushing, but he wasn't angry or confused. "Were you thinking about Elois? Or your fiance?"
"No."
"Really?"
"I... I meant what I said," Chanse insisted, leaning closer. "I-I love you! I have for... for a while. I don't know if it was before you saved me, but I definitely realized it afterwards. Terry, I lo-"
"No, you don't."
Chanse stopped, his words caught in his throat. Terry gave him a stern look. "You're not in love with me," he repeated.
"That's not true! I-"
"Listen to me."
It was said with a stern voice to match the expression, and Chanse slowly sank in his seat.
"I thought I taught you better." From the lights shining from the TV's movie, he could make out one expression on Terry's face: disappointment. His heart sank further. "I told you to be yourself, but you're still clinging to this desperate loneliness?"
"That's not it!" argued Chanse. "I DID change! I AM being myself! And I know I'm in l-"
"STOP MISTAKING THIS," Terry snapped. Hearing the TV, he grabbed the remote and muted it. He sat there quietly for a moment, looking for the right words. Then he set the remote down and looked at the ground.
"You're in love with what you can't have," he muttered.
"What?"
Terry looked at him. "I've watched you for a while, Chanse. I've seen the relationships you've had. Elois? Ken? Even that baker. They've all shared one thing in common: they were never meant to last. And you knew it, didn't you?" There was a pause, and he continued with a bitter laugh, "Then you pick me? Chanse, we're about ten years apart. Sure, maybe I'd give it a day, maybe a month, hell, maybe even a year, but you and I both know it wouldn't last. If it didn't last by our interests, it would have been from age, because we all know I wouldn't be around for half of the time you would.
"You've always wanted something to get rid of the loneliness, but you've never wanted a permanent solution. I can't tell you a clear reason, but if I had to guess..." He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back in his seat, gazing at the ceiling. "I'd say it's your fiance. You're afraid that if you fell in love with someone, you'd leave her behind."
Chanse wasn't sure what to say, his mouth a hanging gape. It was a lot to take in at once, rejection combined with a psychological evaluation. What was the right emotion to feel? Confusion? Sadness? Anger?
"How can you talk like you know me so well?" he hissed. "How can you be so sure that's the reason behind it all! That I'm just hiding behind my fiance?!"
"You're right," Terry agreed, looking over at him. "I don't know you that well. I can't tell you what the answer is or what the solution is. You can. You're the only one who can figure out what the problems are and what the solutions are, and the sooner you focus on yourself rather than a love life, the sooner you'll understand." He scooted closer and put a hand against Chanse's face, making him look at his warm smile. "You're doing better, I can definitely tell. This isn't something that can be fixed in just six months, but I know you're getting there."
There was something warm Chanse felt against his face, and as his vision began to blur he realized they were tears. He put a hand over the one against his face. "I'm trying," he whispered, his shoulders shuddering. "But it's hard. It's so hard."
"I know," Terry mumbled, pulling him into a hug and rubbing his back. "It always is."

Morning came. Chanse had spent the night in exchange, Terry said, for making breakfast. It was an awkward breakfast, with more silence than anything. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge what had happened last night.
It was an unbearable humiliation, and Chanse eagerly wanted to leave. Hastily saying a goodbye, he grabbed his things and was just about to reach the doorway when he heard Terry call after him.
"I know you're scared of being alone, and I know you're scared you won't be able to figure things out in time," the older teacher said as he walked towards him. Once close enough, he reached up to grab Chanse's head, pulling it down to give him a quick kiss, much to his surprise.
"So if you still find yourself with the same problem in five years then I'll accept your little confession."
He smirked at Chanse's bewildered expression before kicking him out of his house.