“If you’re going to give someone a present, you have to be really careful. Your present always has to be wrapped, and make sure you don’t get cheap paper. If your wrapping tears when you’re giving them the present, you could be in a lot of trouble.”
Groaning, Theo dropped his face into his hands.
“And when you give it to them, you have to give it to them gently at first. You can get rougher later on, but first you have to be a gentleman, show them how important they are to you, just delivering that package like uh, uh—”
“Ok,” Theo said, sliding out of his chair. He grabbed Auggie under both arms, hauled him out of the seat, and manhandled him toward the back door. “Goodbye, Auggie.”
“No, stop,” Auggie said. “Please, I was just about to tell you about the end, when you open the present afterward.”
Theo wasn’t even really trying, but he did keep pretending to force Auggie toward the door.
“You need to have tissues. It can get messy.”
“Please don’t come back until you’re forty.”
“No!” Auggie mock-screamed. “I’ve got so much wisdom to impart.”
It turned into wrestling after that, with Auggie laughing like crazy, part of him still unable to believe that Theo was willing to play along. Theo pretended to try to throw Auggie out; Auggie tried to force his way past Theo and deeper into the house. Eventually, somehow, they ended up on the couch in the living room, both of them breathing a little faster than normal, color bright in Theo’s cheeks.
“You cheated,” he said. “I don’t know how, but you cheated.”
It was the way the spring sunlight came through the window. It was the way his hair, which hung loose again, fanned shadows across his cheek. It was the way he was trying so hard to look grumpy. It was the fact that he looked happy in a million tiny ways—the creases around his eyes, the faint hint of a flush, the curve of his mouth—when Theo so rarely looked happy.
“Don’t move,” Auggie said. He got out his phone.
“Auggie.”
“I said don’t move!” He took a picture and posted it with the same hashtag. The previous one was already filling up with questions and comments.
“What am I going to regret now?” Theo asked.
“Nothing. You just look so happy. And it makes me happy.”
And for some reason Auggie couldn’t understand, that snuffed out whatever he was seeing in Theo’s face.
“Hey, Theo?”
Theo raised an eyebrow.
It was there on the tip of Auggie’s tongue, versions of the question he couldn’t bring himself to ask: does Cart use the peanut butter knife, or did he make you wash it? Does he ever stretch out too far on the couch and knock over all your papers? Why didn’t he understand what the watercolors meant to you? Does he know how far out you are, that you’re swimming in deep waters, that you’re so tired of struggling? If he does, why hasn’t he made things better?
“I, um, asked Fer about giving somebody a present. Once. And he had pretty good advice. Although with Fer, it’s hard to tell. There’s so much swearing that it turns into static, and you have to kind of fill in the blanks.”
Theo rested an arm on the back of the couch, his body angled toward Auggie, all his attention directed at him.
“The best present is one that shows the other person you know who they are, that you care about them, and that you like them.”
“That’s good advice.”
“So, what’s Cart’s deal? I mean, what does he like? What does he enjoy?”
“He’s been talking about a reciprocating saw—what?”
Auggie had turned his face into the cushions. “How do you find people who will put up with you? Honestly, I want to know.”
“He likes that kind of stuff! And that’s what you said, something that shows I know who he is.”
Flopping onto his back, Auggie said, “Please tell me you never got Ian a reciprocating saw.”
“Give me a little credit.”
“Oh my God, it was worse.”
Scratching his beard, Theo looked like he was trying not to smile. He failed. “Our first Christmas in this house, I bought him a space heater.”
With a groan, Auggie tried to bury his head between the cushions.
“He was always talking about how his feet were cold.”
“I can’t handle you right now. Go write a sonnet or something.” Then Auggie sat up. “Oh. Damn. Can I make a suggestion?”
“I swear to God, if you try to make one more joke about presents, I’m kicking you out.”
“The wrapping paper can be textured. Double his pleasure with ribbed—”
“Auggie!”
“A birthday party.”
Theo shook his head. “He’s not very big into public displays of affection. He’s—well, we’re keeping things quiet for now.”
“But it doesn’t have to be big.”
“I think it’d be weird if I—”
“Just listen: Cart loves hanging out with his friends. That’s all he posts about on Instagram and Facebook, and he tweets about bro nights all the time.”
“Wait a minute, you’re following him on social media?”
“Yes, duh, I’m stalking him. Try to keep up. His friends are his whole life. Well, and you. So why not combine them? Throw a party, invite all his friends.”
“Because he would freak the hell out.”
“Why?”
Theo’s mouth twisted. “Never mind. It’s just not a good option. I appreciate the idea.”
“You don’t like his friends?”
“I don’t know his friends, not unless they were also friends with Ian.”
“Oh.”
“Please don’t do that. Please don’t feel sorry for me.”
“What if the party—hold on, hear me out—what if somebody else threw the party? You could plan it and prepare it, and afterward, you get all the credit, and he gives you good sex to show you how grateful he is, but it doesn’t feel like . . . like you’re overstepping?”
This time, Theo thought about the idea longer. “It can’t be a Sigma Sigma rager.”
“I’m going to make an exception because you’re stressed. I’m going to let the fact that you just used the word ‘rager’ not ironically pass. I’m not talking about me; I’m talking about one of his friends. Doesn’t he have any cop buddies who would do this for him? Or other friends? With his charming personality, I’m sure—”
“Thin ice.”
Auggie grinned and zipped his lips.
“Maybe,” Theo said, “maybe there is the tiniest possibility this is a good idea. Kind of like a steppingstone. I can meet some of his friends, but it’s low key, non-threatening. It’s not about us. It’s about him. And I think he’d like, you know, feeling like he can connect these two parts of his life.”