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Carter waits as patiently as possible, but when Nathan doesn't add anything, he sighs in frustration. "That name means nothing to me. Who is he in the grand scheme of things? How do you know him? Why were you surprised about him having a slave for so long? Is he important to the case?"Why did he touch you like he's done it before? Why did the two of you look at each other the way we used to? What does he mean to you?
"He's - well, he's actually like me and Benny. Like me, more specifically. Ronan works for the same people we do. He's the lead of his own operation in Ireland. Not human trafficking, but he still buys slaves - both because many of his acquaintances do and because he likes to do what he can. The people in this world believe he's a f2d type of guy, only keeping them for a few weeks before killing them off and getting a new one. In reality, he sets them free."
"That's why it threw you off so much when he said he's had a slave so long?"
Nathan sighs. "Exactly. But… it's none of my business how he does what he does. We're barely even colleagues, really. If the director is happy, that's all that really matters."
“You seemed more than that," Carter cautiously points out. "You seemed like maybe you had a… history."
"We've fucked, if that's what you're getting at."
Something dark curls in the pit of Carter's stomach. "Oh…"
"Not since you, of course."
"Right. Of course…"
"We run in the same circles. I see him 2 or 3 times a year. It was nice to have someone other than Benny to talk to about shit."
Carter runs his fingertip along the seam of his pillow. “But you weren’t justtalking. You were fucking.”
“You’re right.” He feels Nathan turn to face him, but he doesn’t look at him. It’s safer with his back to Nathan. Much safer. Especially when he feels Nathan’s hand gently rest on his shoulder, and he realizes that this awful thing he’s feeling isn’t just jealousy of the past, but a heartbreaking realization that this could be his future. Nathan, sleeping with other men. Maybe even with Ronan. “He meant nothing to me. Hemeansnothing to me. We scratched an itch together, that’s it. Two gay men who couldn’t even remember the last time they got off with someone consenting. Who couldn’t remember the last time they had a guilt-free orgasm. Who couldn’t remember what it felt like to fucking kiss another human being. That’s what he was to me. That’sallhe was.”
“That’s an awful lot,” Carter points out.
“It was, back then.” The hand on his shoulder moves to his hair, fingers carding through it gently. “But then you came along, and I forgot about him. Completely. Hell, Carter, I forgot I even invited him here for the party. When I saw him, it was like I was looking at another life. Another me.”
“You and your alternate versions are getting really exhausting.”
“Maybe it’s your jealousy that’s exhausting you.”
Carter squeezes the shit out of his pillow, teeth grinding. He’s not sure what pisses him off worse - the fact that he is in fact jealous, or that Nathan figured it out.
Either way, he denies it. Hard. “I’m not jealous. Just annoyed. I was under the impression that you wouldn’t be keeping secrets any longer, yet here we are. Again. And here you go, blaming it on your many versions of yourself, again.”
“That’s entirely not fair.”
“I entirely don’t care.” Carter buries his face in the pillow harder, almost like he can hide from this shit show. He’d much rather go back to when the entire party was hitting him, to be honest. Way easier than whatever the hell is happening to him right now. “It’s late. We should get some rest.”
“Carter-"
"Good night, Nathan."
Nathan sighs heavily. “I actually… I had a gift for you.”
That unfortunately gets Carter’s attention. He slowly turns on the bed - careful for his injuries - to find Nathan glancing at his watch. “A gift? It’s notmybirthday.”
“It’s not mine either, if we’re being real.”
“True…”
“Just-” he pauses, running a hand through his hair. His eyes skate over to the bathroom door before coming back to Carter. “Please?”
Carter clamps down on his bottom lip and jerks his head in a nod.
“It’s in the bathroom. Can you get out of bed, or…?”
“Can I get out of bed,” Carter mumbles, shaking his head and smirking. He inches toward the edge of the mattress and forces his body off of it. His knees go weak as pain shoots through his body, but he braces himself on a bed post, takes a deep breath, and the pain fades. As much as it’s going to fade, at least. “See? How dare you doubt me.”
