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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 3 days ago

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Excerpt (?) from part two

Since I haven't posted all of part one yet (and I may not even do that), this will technically contain spoilers for more of part one, but I've been considering posting more of WTH for months now and I'd like to purge some of it to the blog finally. I'm calling it an "excerpt (?)" because I haven't decided if the next part that I wrote will be its own part or if it will be a continuation of part two.

Again, posting under a 'keep reading' because it's five pages single spaced in LibreOffice.

With his children now home in Scotland and a couple of months until he returns to Scotland, himself, West picked up the phone and dialed a number that he read off from a slightly wrinkled, softened blue sticky note. He'd been carrying it around with him to whichever home he traveled to over the past year; in Scotland, he'd stuck it on top of his dresser beside an ever-changing stack of books and framed family photos, and in Nashville, he'd stuck it to the side of his nightstand so that it was something he saw every night before he fell asleep. He'd often rub his thumb over the number he'd written on it, anxious over what it symbolized but still longing for its potential moment (or moments), and thus the paper became rather worn despite trying to keep it safely flat and legible as it moved around with him.

Finally, as he listened to the phone ring on the other line, he hoped he could stop staring at it and actually do something about it.

Fuck, I hope I got the timezone difference right.

It was a Friday night in London and Friday afternoon there in Nashville, but he hoped that Eric hadn't gone out immediately after work – assuming he even did work. Before West left him that morning a year and two months ago, Eric had mentioned not wanting to go to work the next day, as he was an engineer and the work was rather tedious. But so many things could happen over a year since last seeing someone – he could've quit his job or lost his job in that time. West still didn't know hardly a thing about Eric, except that the handsome Black man had filled his nightly dreams for many months since he'd left him that morning.

After three rings, West was just about to give up and hang up the phone when he heard a muffled click and a forceful, “Hello?”

He almost blew it.

He opened his mouth to say something, his mouth forming the shape of letters that would translate into words, but suddenly, it was though he'd forgotten language.

“Hello?” the voice asked again, this time more calm – more curious at the silence.

“Hi,” he finally managed to say, and let out a sigh of relief that he'd even managed to say that.

“Er, hello. Who's this?” Eric asked politely.

“Ehm, you might not remember me...it's been a long time,” West answered, his voice full of regret. “It's West.”

The voice on the other line waited a few beats before answering, “Oh, my god. West? The Scotsman? From Comptons?”

West smiled and ran a hand over his short, nearly cropped hair. “Yeah, that'd be me.” He waited a few seconds before adding, “I cannae believe you remember me.”

“I–” Eric started to say, then lapsed into silence for several long seconds. “I can't say I remember all of my one night stands...but you were rather memorable.” After a few more seconds, he seemed to think of something, and added quickly, “How did you even get this number? I don't recall giving it to you,” he said, sounding suspicious.

West chuckled nervously and said, “Ah, yeah, that morning I kind of...nicked it off your phone while you were in the loo.”

Eric didn't say anything at first, and when he did, his voice sounded farther away from the receiver. “How? My phone number is still taped to my phone.”

“Eh, aye, I just copied it onto a sticky note off your side table.”

The line was silent for a few seconds, and then Eric chuckled and tutted. “You couldn't even ask me for my number? You had to steal it.” The last part he said like a statement – which was necessary, as West had openly admitted it as a statement already.

West made a noise of embarrassment and started to say, “I...well, I...” and then he sighed. “I have no excuse. I know any normal person would've just asked for your number. I guess I was just...scared, at the time, 'cause very little about that night was normal for me.” Though this was the truth, as plainly as he could put it, he still felt bad for forcing his emotions onto Eric so suddenly this way, considering that he had not seen or talked to Eric in over a year, and Eric probably thought that he would never see him again, anyway. He felt raw and exposed, but he hoped that exposing himself this way would pay off, at least.

“Ah,” Eric replied simply. Neither of them said anything for a while, so finally, Eric broke the silence to ask, “So...you waited – what, over a year? – to call me. What's changed?”

And this, put so directly, threw West for a minute, and his anxiety came rushing back.

Did I do the right thing by calling him at all? Should I just have forgotten him and looked for someone else? Someone safer – like a woman? Am I so stupid...to think that he would care to see me again at all? And, god, what if he's not even single anymore? I'll be the biggest fucking fool.

Not slowly, but not so confidently, either, he replied, “Well, to tell the truth, I've been thinking about you ever since that night. I can't seem to forget you no matter what I do. Not that I've been...doing much, in trying to forget you. It's just been...I've just been...coming to terms with what that means for me. And, to be honest, I'm probably no closer today than I was a year ago to answering that for myself, but I wanted to call you, anyway, in case you were...available, and still interested in, ehm...well, me, I suppose. And I've just been...foolishly hoping that you would be. But I'm probably wrong.”

Eric never tried to interrupt him, but he did have something to say soon after West apparently finished pouring his heart out to him.

“You're not a fool,” Eric admitted quietly. West was stunned by this, and waited to hear more – if Eric was going to elaborate on this. To his relief, he did. “But it's sweet of you to think I wouldn't be available. And by that, I assume you mean, single, or open to shagging again, or whatever. As for being interested in you...well, it's been a year since I last saw you. And I certainly didn't know you well then, but I'm sure that I know you even less well now. So what do you expect me to do about that?”

West sucked in a breath, remembering again how consistently Eric was able to surprise him, and he felt his heart flutter with hope.

“I...well...a great question, that. I...you see, as long as I've been thinking of you, I was trying to work up the courage to call you and ask you if you'd like to come visit me, here in Nashville.”

“What–” Eric started, sounding dumbfounded. “What do you mean 'here in Nashville'? Do you mean in America?”

West managed a small smile. “Aye. I told you I'd been to America. I know I didnae tell you that I also live half the time in America, as well, but I do. In Nashville, Tennessee.”

Eric started to say something that started with 'I' several times, but finally, he just huffed. “I've never been to America! I've never even been outside the UK! How am I supposed to visit you in America?”

This, West smiled a victorious smile over. He could deal with this.

“You get a passport. You pack a bag. You get on a plane. And you come to see me.”

The silence on the other line was tense, but West had already seen victory. He knew Eric was going to say yes. He didn't know when he would, but he knew that he would. His courage had paid off – he knew it now.

“You make all of that sound so simple. Not to mention the fact that all of that is so expensive. I may be an engineer, but I just barely make enough to pay my bills, thank you very much. Not that you asked. How am I supposed to pay for all of that?”

West started to feel bad, but he hoped that what he said next would alleviate those feelings. “You don't. I'll pay for it.”

Now, he could feel that he'd stunned Eric into a helpless silence. He waited to hear his response, which didn't come for over a minute.

“What do you mean you'll pay for it.” Again, Eric said this like a statement, and West fought hard not to run over Eric's pride with a steamroller.

“I'll pay for you to come visit me. The plane ticket, at least. Round trip. And anything else you'll let me pay for, I'm happy to.”

“You'll do what.”

West, instead of being intimidated by this, just grinned. “I want you to come visit me. I'll pay for you to come visit me. D'ye need me to say that in any other way?”

Eric just huffed, although he clearly wasn't that annoyed. “I understand English, thank you very much. Even if your accent is thicker over the phone than I remember it being in person.”

“Oi,” West said, and frowned. “All right, I can say it slower–”

“No,” Eric interrupted. “No, that won't be necessary.”

West started to feel as though his victory was slipping, and he was careful to wait for Eric to say something next.

After a couple minutes of silence, he heard Eric sigh.

“You would really...pay all of that money, just to get me to go see you?” And then, before West could answer, he reminded him, “I'm just...I find this hard to believe given how well we know each other, which is about...none? We really don't know each other at all. I mean, Christ, I don't even know your last name! ...or maybe I don't even know your first name! Is West really even your name?”

“What!” West protested. “Okay, slow down.” He took a deep breath to calm himself, because he didn't want either of them spiraling away from his main goal. “Yes, my name is really West. It's Westley, in fact. But...I cannae tell you my last name until you see me, or...if you agree to, anyway. It's as much to protect myself as it is to protect you, at least where you are.”

Eric let out a choked sound. “What? I thought you were...in a band, or something? Do you do something more nefarious than that?”

West laughed. “I am in a band! One you've probably heard of. So no, I dinnae do anything nefarious. It's just the nature of the media. I'm a bit more anonymous here, which I like, but it also means–”

“It means that you can go on having clandestine affairs more readily there than you can here?” Eric interjected.

He huffed in offense before he could help himself. “Oi, no. I’mnae having affairs. I mean...” he sighed, trying to decide in that split second how much of himself he was going to reveal to Eric, or, embarrassingly, how much he really had been thinking about Eric for the past year. “I’mnae having affairs with anyone besides you.”

There was silence on the other line for a minute, until Eric said, tentatively, “I'm sorry– Did you say that you were not having affairs with anyone besides me? You mean...since a year ago?”

West sighed and closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead above one eyebrow. “Yes, that's what I'm saying.”

Eric didn't say anything, and West began to feel as though he was losing. His hope began to dwindle away with every silent second that passed over the phone.

Finally, Eric said, “I...I don't know what to say.” And, faithfully, he didn't say anything for another minute, until he added, finally some mirth in his tone, “I mean, really, I think I should be telling you to get fucked, except I don't mean that in an impolite manner! Really, I mean that in the kindest way possible!”

West finally laughed, and he felt his cheeks heat up in spite of the fact that no one could see him.

Then, Eric added, his surprise overriding his quip, “Honey, are you really telling me you haven't gotten fucked since we–”

“YES,” West interrupted, groaning. Eric just laughed and babbled about not trying to offend him by laughing.

“So you're trying to tell me,” Eric said once he'd calmed down, although there was still a note of amusement in his voice, “That you really are that hard up for me that you would pay – I don't even know how much money, but surely a lot – to fly me across the pond? So that we can, what, go to...basketball games and...I don't know what Americans do for fun over there, but whatever they do...”

West shook his head, but he began to smile again. “I know it sounds mad because we really didn't even know each other that well, and it's been a ridiculous amount of time since we last saw each other, but...really, yes, I am telling you that I want to see you again, and I want to get to know you better, if you'll let me.”

Eric didn't say anything for a few minutes, but West could hear him making sounds like muffled whispers, and, after a bit, he heard him sigh.

“Well, I'm marking you down for mad and horny.”

His response was so sudden and random that West couldn't help but bark out a laugh, and he heard Eric giggling over the line. And yet, the response sobered him, because West realized that Eric had named his intentions with far less nuance than he intended. This, he wanted to correct, but Eric plowed on ahead of him before he could.

“All right, so you were so dazzled by me the last time we met that you waited over a year to call me and tell me that, actually, you'd like to see me again, and get to know me proper. And now you're willing to put me on a plane and fly me across the pond just so you can...get to know me? Is that all, honey, or is there more?”

Again, he'd given West a run for his money, and West just sat silently for a minute trying to think of how to respond intelligently to that.

“I...oi, you keep doing that. Just...exposing me, like I’m some second-rate undercover spy.”

“Oh, is that what you are, or have I dissuaded you from your lifelong dream now?” Eric asked, sounding as though he was trying very hard to be serious but could not actually do it. West laughed.

“No. But you certainly lay everything out neat and tidy-like.”

Eric hummed in response. “Can't help it, dear – I'm an expert at men. Not to mention, being one, myself.” This caused West to laugh again, and he shook his head fondly.

“All right, well, Expert Of Men–“ West said it as though it was an official title, mocking it with an overly formal accent, causing Eric to laugh, “–if I must tell you, I do want, very much, to get to know you better, and...to spend time with you. And if that time was spent on some...extracurriculars, well, I wouldnae say no to that.”

Eric laughed again, loudly and, apparently, hard, and West just grinned at the sound. He remembered that sound as he'd heard it in person more clearly now, and he remembered, again, that he liked it.

“You'll just speak around any plans that you have to get fucked nasty, won't you?”

West made noises of protest, but even without Eric’s ability to see his face, it was clear he wore a huge smile in spite of it. “Oi, I'm being accused of being a nympho here, when I'm anything but!”

Eric finally returned to being somewhat serious, although he tutted affectionately. “Oh, sure. But...” and then he paused for a few quiet seconds, and he seemed to think of something. “Well, actually, I suppose I can believe that if you haven't had sex for over a year. Although I do find that hard to believe, personally.”

“Ah, well, you can believe what you want, but once you get to know me better, you'll understand that you should believe that.”

“Mhmm...” Eric said, not totally convinced, but sounding willing to believe it if given the proper evidence. The two fell into silence after that for a few minutes, and West began to silently chew his thumbnail as he waited for Eric to say something decisive about his offer.

“Well,” Eric began, finally, after sighing. “I suppose...that prospect doesn't sound too objectionable.”

This gave West pause.

“What? What does that mean?”

Eric huffed out an amused sigh, but said, almost wearily, “I mean that...getting to know you better sounds nice. I'd like to.”

West had to wait a few seconds before replying, his comprehension late to catch up with Eric's statement. “Oh! Ehm...does that mean you'll come visit me in Nashville, then?”

Eric didn't say anything for a minute, but finally sighed a sigh that sounded resigned. “I've never been on a plane before. And I don't have a passport. I've never even been on holiday before! When...when were you hoping for this to happen?”

Finally, West grinned, and he grasped victory lovingly in his fist. “Give me your address, ah...in a minute, soon as I find a pen and paper, and I'll send you the money for all of that.” He set the phone down on the table and went to find a pen and paper, and came back a minute later with a pen and a mini legal pad. “All right, whenever you're ready.”

Eric sighed, but gave it to him, and after West was finished scrawling down his address, West addressed his other question. “As for when to visit, I'll be here in Nashville until about December, so any time you can visit before then – spare some time from work – just let me know.”

Muffled slightly, he heard something that sounded like a smack, and Eric said, as though to explain the sound West had just heard, “Fuck, I have to ask for time off for that! I hate doing that. My boss isn't my biggest fan, although at least he approves of my work. He’d hate to lose me for a while, but maybe he’d let me get...”

They began to discuss the details, then; West would send him more than enough money for the plane ticket and anything else related to the trip that he needed (such as, his passport), and Eric would ask for a week off from work.

Over the coming two months, they'd called each other three or four more times to finish arranging Eric's visit, and West was happy to get to hear some recent updates to Eric's life in each call, although West was prone to being much more vague about his own for the sake of his privacy.

#my favorite part (yes I'm the writer and I have a favorite part) is 'GET FUCKED - and I mean that in the kindest way possible!' 🤣#in a way posting this rather than the rest of part one is fine because you just miss the details but you do learn the main #idea of what happens in part one. so actually it's not really spoiler-y it's a good idea to avoid wasting time reading (for y'all)#all of part one and posting it (for me). lol #my writing

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