If We Found Heaven ✓

thirty-seven ✎

Reid hadn't intended to go there. But after wandering aimlessly through the streets of San Francisco for a whole afternoon alone - window shopping and sightseeing as he went - he found himself standing in front of the gay bar they had visited two nights prior.

Reid's first mistake of the night was going inside. I'll just have a couple drinks and then write, Reid told himself. But one does not often simply write after having a couple of drinks; Instead, one tends to make bad decisions.

Reid's second mistake of the night was his second shot. He could almost feel the alcohol running through his system. He struggled with his pocket, pulling out the notebook in which he had been drafting Cass's grand speech that morning before they had all left for the rally. He pulled out a Sharpie and it was as if someone had put a hand around his heart and squeezed. He was scribbling furiously when the beer he had ordered was set down in front of him.

Reid's third mistake of the night was reaching blindly for the pint of beer as he wrote. In his flailing drunkenness, coupled with his lack of vision fixed on the object, he knocked it over. It spilled all over the person who had recently sat down next to him. Reid heard the glass fall, but he only glanced over when he heard the individual curse.

Reid's fourth mistake of the night was looking up. The boy sitting next to him had the second most beautiful honey colored eyes that Reid had ever seen. Second, because the most beautiful eyes Reid had ever seen were Art's. This boy was not Art. But Reid had spilled beer all over him, and was now obligated to make niceties.

Reid's fifth mistake of the night was - you guessed it - making niceties. Because niceties when you're drunk and lonely often turn into a little bit more than that. Of course, part of the issue was Reid's blatant obliviousness. Obliviousness so great that when the boy asked if Reid could help him clean up in one of the bathrooms, Reid agreed, still feeling guilty about the spilled beer.

The bathroom door shut as Reid grabbed some paper towels from the box by the sink. "I'm so sorry about all this," Reid said, pressing a few to the boy's soaking shirt.

"It's alright," the boy said pleasantly.

Reid worriedly eyed the stained fabric. "How can I make it up to you?"

"How about you come dance with me for a song or two," he suggested. "I noticed you haven't left the counter since you walked in."

Ordinarily, Reid would've likely refused. Those two darned shots, though, were addling with his brain. "Sure."

The music was loud, almost ear-drum-explodingly so, as they made their way into the crowd. People were whooping and screaming. It reminded Reid of Cass in the car on the way to San Francisco. The boy grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer. "You were writing at the bar, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Reid replied, feeling his head bop involuntarily to the beat.

"You know, I work in publishing," the boy informed him.

"Oh really?" Reid asked distractedly. "That's cool."

"I'm Ant, by the way," he said, holding out a hand.

Reid shook his hand. "My...friend's name is Art. That's pretty close to your name."

"Weird," Ant said. "Is it short for something?"

Reid nodded. "Arthur."

"Nice," Ant said. His lips were curled in a smirk-like smile. "Come on, you're barely even dancing!"

Reid swayed from side to side, attempting to stay in time with the beat. "Sorry!" All around them, couples were pressed up against each other.

"Hey, you never told me your name," Ant said.

"I'm Reid," Reid replied.

"Sick," Ant said. "You should call me sometime, by the way." At Reid's dismayed expression, he laughed. "For publishing stuff."

"Oh," Reid said, nodding once.

"Or other stuff," Ant added. Reid felt his cheeks turn red at the insinuation. "Are you single?" Ant asked, smiling coyly. Reid hesitated, unsure of his answer. Ant studied him. "In a fight? On a break? Something like that?" he suggested.

"Yeah, something like that," Reid agreed.

"Well you know what I always say," Ant said, leaning in. His breath ghosted over Reid's cheek and the top of his ear. "What happens in the dark stays there." He jerked his head over to a shadowy corner. "Come on. There are no cobwebs, I swear." Reid wasn't sure why he nodded, letting Ant tug him by the arm off of the dance floor.

Then Ant was kissing him, and Reid was frozen like a statue, because all he could think about was Art, Art, Art. Reid pushed Ant away. No knock-off Art would do, he thought dimly to himself. Reid released a giggle. Ant looked unruffled, as though the rejection of his kiss was no big thing. If it's no big thing, prodded a voice in Reid's head, he won't be likely to tell anyone. Ant leaned against the wall beside Reid as this internal battle raged on in his head. You should experiment. To know for sure if you like boys or not. Reid's fingers found the collar of Ant's shirt and pulled him in.

This felt wrong. It felt wrong as Ant kissed down to Reid's collarbone, definitely leaving a mark. It felt wrong, so Reid pushed him away. But he had done it. He had kissed a boy that was not Art. And while he hadn't exactly liked it, he hadn't hated it either.

"I have to go," Reid said breathlessly.

Ant slipped a scrap of paper towel into his palm. "Call me about publishing." With a last smirk, he turned and drifted away into the crowd.

Reid's heart was pounding as he unlocked the door to the apartment. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. If Art found out... They were already on shaky ground. Reid didn't want to think about how much shakier that ground would be. It would be the Great San Francisco Earthquake of 1906 again - but this time, the only thing cracking and crumbling would be Reid's heart. The rest of The Angels weren't back at the apartment yet, and Reid took a shower in preparation for their arrival. The kiss and the bus ride back had sobered him up fairly quickly, so he was confident that the only thing that would give away his trip to the club would be the alcohol on his breath. Some scarily minty toothpaste would do the trick for that (Reid's breath ended up smelling like mint for days after).

By the time Art, Cass, and Sullivan got back, Reid was curled up in a bed, trying hard to fall asleep. Guilt wrapped its way around him as Art stood in the doorway to the bedroom and fondly smiled.

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short chapter ! short chapter ! short chapter !

don't hate me <3

the secret to cas's (from "two weeks in europe") minty smells is in this chapter omg

okok so if you want the extended explanation, cass is borrowing the apartment from her friend who's taking a trip to canada, and later moves permanently to canada. that friend is the one who owns the minty toothpaste (and other mint-scented items) and takes them with her when she moves. lilyanne (cas's mom) goes to canada briefly to see a doctor there while cas is a child living in boston. she brings a bunch of products back with her, and cas gets his hands on them, and that's how he always smells minty.

also yes i do hate myself for naming two of my main characters cass and cas.