Beta Test (#gaymers) (20 page)

Oh lord save Tristan from a mother with ideas. His hand holding the phone started to shake. Hell. Why did he
always
have to twitch like a scared guinea pig when nervous. “I’ll be there, but I’m happy in my job.”

“Happiness is far from everything.” His mother made a
tsk
sound. From the soft clicking in the background he could tell she was at her computer, multitasking as usual. Once upon a time she’d put happiness on her to-do list, laughing with him and Derek over a late dinner while admiring whatever project Maria had done with them. They’d been so happy once, but now all that was left was the icy feeling in his chest.

“And I don’t think I have to tell you that this is a family-only occasion. No...
friends.
”

“I understand.” And did he ever. No bringing a guy home to meet his parents, even if Ravi was game for such a gauntlet.

“Good. I still don’t know why you had to have such...
flamboyant
friends during that phase of yours in college—”

“It wasn’t a phase, Mom.” He thought about Ravi and his issues with his parents.
Guess we’re not so different after all.

“Oh I know you’re intending to continue in this...
lifestyle
, but do remember what we’ve talked about flaunting it. My campaign can survive you quietly being...yourself, but we can’t have the appearance of you actively disagreeing with my platform.”

“I get it.”
Quietly being yourself.
That right there pretty much summed up his entire existence. Ravi’s face flashed in his mind. That was what he lo—
liked
best about the guy. He wasn’t quiet in the least. And yes, his mother would undoubtedly call it “flamboyant,” but Ravi’s absolute confidence in his own tastes from pants to charities to bobbleheads made Tristan more than a little jealous.

No one asked Derek to quietly be himself
, his brain protested. Not that Derek would have stood for such an order, but he and his larger-than-life personality weren’t here now, and even though his mother would never say it aloud, he knew his absence would be felt by all of them as they stood there on the stage, one less than four.

“Good, darling. I do love you, you know?”

“I know, Mom.” In a way, that hurt far more than had she withheld affection. But she’d been a loving if overscheduled and distant parent after Derek’s death. And those awful months after he’d come out when they hadn’t spoken, they had cut that much worse because they
had
been close once upon a time. “I love you too.”

“Have a good night, sweetheart. Looking forward to seeing you soon!” She sounded way more excited about the prospect than Tristan felt.

After hanging up, he set the phone on top of the washer and set about taking the wad of sheets out of the dryer. It wasn’t just Ravi that Tristan had to worry about with this campaign business—if it got out around the office who his mother was, some people would undoubtedly turn on him, assume he was that narrow-minded by association.

Ch-chime.
Ch-chime.
Tristan grinned stupidly into the pile of laundry at the sound of an incoming text. And yeah, he’d totally gone and given Ravi his own tone—a victory tune from a game he’d loved in high school.

Almost done here. Want some help folding laundry?

Tristan’s funk at the phone call with his mother instantly lifted. Absolutely. Did you eat? Want me to order something?

The phone chimed again with the reply text. On my way. I ate. Just wanted to hang out a bit.

This. This was what Tristan had to look forward to. This was what was important. Not his mother’s stupid campaign and fundraiser. He knew it was stupid and short-lived and probably about to be ruined by his family, but until that point, he was going to enjoy the way his whole body leaped at the prospect of an unexpected visit from Ravi.

* * *

A strange number of people were hanging around Ravi’s locker at his volunteer job. It was an average Wednesday, and unlike a lot of times, Ravi was eager to get back to Santa Monica. In the past few weeks since he’d shown up on Tristan’s doorstep, his life had been a series of segmented moments—carefully detached at work, watching Tristan go out to lunch with everyone other than himself, distracted at his volunteer work and friend obligations, counting down until the best moments, the ones where he arrived at Tristan’s apartment and lost himself in easy conversation and mind-blowing sex.

And occasionally they remembered to do adulting like laundry and regular meals. Tonight, Tristan had texted that he was ordering Thai food, and Ravi couldn’t wait to eat with his...friend. Thinking of Tristan that way felt slightly disingenuous, because with any other lover, this much time together over a month of sleeping together, Ravi would be introducing him around and throwing around the boyfriend label without a second thought.

“Hot date?” Mary Ellen asked.

Ravi
wanted
to say yes, wanted to brag about the hot, sweet guy waiting for him back home. “Nah. Just hungry.”

“Oh you want to grab a bite?” His friend Javier looked over from putting on a fresh T-shirt.

“Thanks. Maybe another time.” Trying to deflect attention away from his plans, Ravi quickly changed the subject. “Why are you guys hovering tonight? You keep looking at me like someone’s gonna pop out of my locker with a cake.”

“Not a cake.” Mary Ellen grinned broadly. “Come on. Open up.”

Oh now he was worried. Funny pranks among the volunteers were pretty common, but he was usually an instigator, not the butt of the joke. However, instead of rubber snakes or balloons, the only thing that fell out of his locker was a heavily embossed thick stationary envelope.

“Oh the invitation to this year’s gala?” Ravi’s eyes narrowed. All volunteers got an invite, of course, even if most couldn’t afford the gala ticket prices.

“Open it!” Javier demanded.

“Okay, okay,” Ravi grumbled, tearing his envelope open. To his surprise, two tickets fluttered out into his hand. Huh. That was new. He opened the invite to the gala on the thirteenth, which as usual listed the B-list celebrity serving as emcee, the A-list celebrities being honored, and the music acts donating their appearance. And also, as usual, the invite listed a trio of volunteers getting recognized—

“What?” His eyes almost fell out of his head, doing the spring-loaded cartoon bugging-out thing as he saw his own name listed. “I’m one of the honorees? But a lot of you have been here longer.”

“Few people do as much as you. We’re lucky to have you,” Marsha, their shift supervisor poked her head into the breakroom. “And I’ve already bought my tickets. Can’t wait to see who you bring.”

“And your tux! Can’t wait to see that,” Mary Ellen added. She and Marsha occasionally made him feel like he was an exhibit at a museum that existed for their amusement.

“You still sure about no food?” Javier asked, elbowing him. “Come on, let me buy you a drink to celebrate!”

“I’m sure.” Ravi carefully slid the invitation and tickets into his messenger bag. How fucked up was it that the one person he couldn’t wait to tell his good news to was the one person he couldn’t tell? Wasn’t like Tristan would fall all over himself to be Ravi’s plus-one, and it wasn’t like Ravi was ready to go public at work with...whatever he had going on with Tristan. No, he’d just sit on the invitation, same as he was doing with Avani’s wedding, and wait until he could figure something out.

* * *

Ravi still hadn’t figured anything out by the next day at work. He’d eaten with Tristan, stayed long enough to get all tangled up on Tristan’s couch, then left to sleep in his own bed on the pretext of needing clean clothes for work.

Ravi was in line at the fancy coffee place down the street from
Space Villager
when his coworker Meena came up behind him. Despite having a Keurig, a high-end coffeemaker, and an espresso machine at work, somehow they all ended up back here for drinks and pastries far more often than they should have.

Ravi had already ordered, and he was glad he didn’t yet have beverages in his hands when Meena gave him a knowing smile, the same one his sisters used on him all the time. “So when are you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?”

“What?” he sputtered. “There’s not...I’m not...”

“Oh you can’t hide from me. I’m not just your colleague. I’m the nosy neighbor, remember? And the last few weeks you’ve been gone more than you’re at home, and when you are home, you’re coming in late.”

“I’m just busy.” Ravi tried to play it all casual but had a strong feeling he’d failed. He’d warned Tristan this could happen. And seeing as how his friendship with Meena had helped him land this job, he really couldn’t complain about her being all up in his business. “You know, work. Volunteer stuff. Getting ready for the AIDS run.”

“Ha. There’s a guy all right.” She smiled at him, sweeter than a piece of Dadi’s halva. “Bring him around. I’m doing a dinner party in two weeks on the thirteenth. You should bring your new guy. Dale’s talked me into making pakoras again for the crowd.”

Oh tempting. Meena was the only one he knew locally whose cooking rivaled his mother’s and grandmother’s. “I can’t that weekend. It’s the AIDS Project gala.”

“Oh that’s right. I heard a rumor you’re being honored! So exciting!”

“Yeah. It’s cool.” Heck. Ravi hadn’t crowed about the honor at work, but apparently it had gotten around his social circle anyway.

“I’ll see if there are any tickets left. Dale and I would love to go. We’ll move the dinner party to the following weekend. When you can bring your new friend, yes?”

“You’re worse than my aunties,” he told Meena, even though none of his actual aunties would try to set him up with a guy.

“Ravi,” the barista bellowed, setting two drinks up on the counter.

“Ravi! Two drinks?” Meena’s eyes narrowed. “Are you fishing at work? Surely you know better than that?”

Fuck.
Meena happened to know all about Emilio because Ravi had poured his heart out to her about needing a new job back in the winter.

He immediately regretted the impulse that had led him to order the second drink, one he’d been planning on sliding on Tristan’s desk while he was in a meeting with management. “It’s nothing. Just a favor for Tristan.”

“Oh, he’s
nice
, but Ravi—”

“He’s a friend,” Ravi said firmly. Shit. Her slightly censuring tone was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. “Same as you. Now stop bugging me about my love life or I really will start calling you auntie.”

“Humph.
Someone
has stirred you up.” She grabbed her own drink as it came up. “And I can’t wait to find out who.”

I
can.
Ravi followed her back to the office, trying to distract her with questions about her dogs and her British husband. Anything to get attention off his life.

Back at the office, his bad luck continued with Tristan actually at his desk for once this week, which meant he couldn’t just set the drink down and scurry away like he’d planned. Luckily, Meena headed to her own cube over with the other developers, but Ravi still looked around as he set the coffee down.

“Here’s the drink you ordered,” he said as Tristan glanced up.

“I didn’t—” Something in Ravi’s expression must have warned Tristan because he stopped short and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Hey, I needed to ask you about something anyway.” Tristan’s eyes swept over the surrounding area. They were both as bad as teens trying to sneak a joint.

“Yeah?”

“Josiah’s LAN party is this weekend. But I think I can’t go.”

“You can’t?” Ravi had forgotten that was this weekend, but he was still planning on it.

Tristan grabbed a post-it from a neat dispenser with six types of notes and sticky flags.
Someone will guess
, he wrote on the note.
But Josiah needs an answer today.
Something about network ports.
One of us should skip.
Makes sense for me to bail.
Aloud, Tristan said, “My car needs servicing.”

Ravi shook his head. Tristan was finally getting into the swing of things socially. He didn’t need to go back to hiding. “No. It’ll be cool. I’ll give you a ride if your car will be in the shop.”

“You will?” Tristan’s eyes went wide, and Ravi had to wonder what kind of fire he was playing with here.

But still he nodded. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

He hoped. Between his award, Meena’s suspicions and the LAN party, he should be running away, but instead the only direction he seemed capable of going was straight back into Tristan’s embrace. He snagged a note off Tristan’s stack.
Dinner at your place?
he wrote.

Tristan’s answering smile was worth all the turmoil in Ravi’s brain.

Chapter Twenty

Tristan had been to plenty of parties. Of course, most of them involved fancy appetizers, people over forty in nice clothes, and classical music to accompany the sort of small talk he’d been awful at from his teens onward. In college Patrick had dragged him to some parties with people his own age—loud electronica, low lights, heavy stench of pot and cheap booze, and the same issue with Tristan’s inability to make small talk.

Josiah’s LAN gaming party was nothing like either of those things. To start with, Josiah’s party required that he bring snacks and a sleeping bag, something he’d almost had to purchase before Ravi remembered he had a spare bag in his camping supplies. Ravi had picked him up Saturday afternoon, because Tristan felt honor-bound to actually send the car for servicing since he’d said it aloud at work. He and Ravi had hit Trader Joe’s for snack food on their way to the party, and it felt very weird to be shopping together, doing such a couple thing in public, after weeks of hiding away together.

“You should get some energy bars too, or something with protein,” he said as Ravi loaded up their cart with bags of chips. “You know how you get when you go too long without a real meal.”

“Yes, Mummy.” Ravi made a face at him, and Tristan cracked up. And right there, in the middle of the chip and cracker aisle, he wanted to kiss his still-not-a-boyfriend because he was so damn adorable and he was Tristan’s, even if just for a moment.