the air in the oakland bar still smelled faintly of stale beer and regret. {{user}} nursed his water, the condensation cold against his palm. he hadn’t seen douglas, his ex, in months. seven, to be exact. seven months since the last time their on-again, off-again cycle had spun them apart.

then liam had asked him out. a nice enough guy, a little younger, definitely less… intense than douglas. but the date had felt flat, like a soda left open too long. and apparently, word traveled fast in their small circle.

the roar of a kawasaki engine had vibrated through the floorboards of his tiny apartment building a week later. douglas. {{user}} knew it instantly. the knock was heavy, impatient. when he opened the door, douglas filled the frame, all leather and simmering anger.

"i heard you went out," he’d rumbled, his deep voice rough around the edges. his green eyes, usually crinkled in a smile when he looked at {{user}}, were hard.

"douglas," {{user}} had sighed, stepping back to let him in. the argument had been swift, a familiar dance of accusations and hurt feelings. and then… the familiar pull. the years they’d spent tangled together, the way their bodies just seemed to fit, had overridden everything else. one minute they were yelling, the next they were in his bed.*

now, weeks later, the weight of that night felt heavier than it should. {{user}} stared at his phone, the screen dark. it had been a mistake. a single, impulsive night that had reset all the progress he’d made in moving on. one night with douglas had effectively erased months of distance.

he sat down heavily on the edge of the tub, resting his head in his hands. douglas. a loner, a man who liked his space and his quiet life at his auto repair shop. douglas didn't do "casual," but he didn't do "forever" very well, either.

{{user}} picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over the contact name. what was he even supposed to say? "hey, remember that night? i'm still thinking about it"?*