Chapter Text
Mamihlapinatapai: A Yaghan word from Chilean/Argentine Patagonia, that describes a shared look between two people, in which both want to start something, but neither dares to make the first move.
Summer in Hong Kong is humid. The temperatures are lower than in the United States, but that stifling humidity can be a bit of a challenge.
“Mamihlapinatapai,” Luke mutters, over and over, like a mantra.
It's Thursday night. He's been out since morning and is dying to get home, change his clothes, turn on the air conditioning, pour himself a big glass of iced tea, and have dinner with Jamie.
He drives through the city, repeating that mantra. The very word that once caused him so much anxiety is now an essential part of his routine.
He still attends AA meetings, even on the busiest days. Group therapy has been helpful for him, and it’s also a great excuse to practice his Cantonese.
Moving to Hong Kong has been a huge—not to say drastic—change. Without a doubt, his life has taken an unexpected turn, going from renting an old, dilapidated apartment in New York to living in a small but cozy cabin in the middle of the mountains.
He never considered that at some point in his life he would end up living in another country, on another continent, with a different language and culture.
Much less at his age.
Despite everything, he still keeps in touch with his ex, who seems to have achieved the professional success she so eagerly desired.
The same goes for his former colleagues, who have moved on with their lives.
He still talks to his mother, who now lives in a nursing home (at her own request).
And he still feels lost, from time to time.
He still has fatalistic thoughts, he still has doubts, he still feels afraid—
But he’s working on it. He talks to his psychiatrist, stays away from temptations, and acknowledges his mistakes.
And for now, that’s enough.
The drive back home takes two hours. Driving from the city to the countryside requires skill and patience. Jamie insisted that the money from his inheritance was more than enough to support them both and that, therefore, Luke didn't need to work.
Nevertheless, Luke wanted to work; he needed to. He had to keep himself busy one way or another.
After endless arguments (and the occasional threat), Jamie decided to help him find a place where he could pursue the vocation he had discovered later in life.
That’s how he ended up owning a small gym on the outskirts of the city, specializing in self-defense, MMA, and other disciplines.
Five years have passed since that last summer in Metro City. Since the reunion at the pier, since that endless night at the hotel, and since the conversation over lunch.
Much has changed, and yet, nothing really has.
Jamie and he keep arguing about everything. In fact, most of their agreements still tend to come after trading blows. They still tease each other, they still challenge each other, they still behave like a couple of immature teenagers—
Despite being fifty-five and fifty-seven, respectively.
That thought interrupts his mantra, drawing a short, dry laugh from him.
Perhaps some things are meant to remain unchanged.
After finishing cooking, Jamie heads to the living room and sits down on the couch that Luke insisted on buying. He’s been dealing with an annoying pain in his back for several days now, one that will most likely require medical attention.
Aging isn’t easy.
He takes a book from the shelf and begins to flip through the pages, without paying much attention to the printed words. Most of his chores are done. He’s already fed the chickens, harvested the vegetables, and hung the laundry.
Now all he has to do is wait for Luke to come back.
The night is warm and humid. The weather report predicted that heavy rains would start very soon. Five years ago, when Luke arrived in the country, Jamie feared he wouldn’t be able to adjust to the climate. But time proved him wrong, and after a few adjustments, the humidity was no longer a problem.
These adjustments came in the form of an air conditioner, an expansion of the house, the purchase of new furniture, and the renovation of certain areas.
Now, his grandmother's little cabin has enough room for a couch and a TV, as well as a double bed in the main bedroom.
Jamie doesn't mind this change, mostly because he knows his grandmother would approve.
He knows she would be happy for him.
After that long conversation in Metro City five years ago, they made the perhaps rushed, perhaps impulsive decision to move in together.
Even though they both had toyed with the idea of returning to that city, in the end they realized it was time to let it go, to cherish the past and move forward into the future.
Luke agreed to move to Hong Kong with almost no objections, which worried Jamie; the last thing he wanted was for Luke to feel pressured—or worse, caught between a rock and a hard place.
It took him a while to understand that Luke was genuinely excited about moving to another country.
About moving in with him.
From then on, the story wrote itself. They established a routine, divided up tasks, learned to live together, to communicate, to make the most of their strengths, and to work on their weaknesses.
Jamie continues with his usual routine. He still guides travelers and helps his neighbors. He’s still passionate about dance and martial arts. He still exchanges letters with his mother every now and then.
There are still nights when he has to battle insomnia. Though they’re less frequent now.
And he still lives his life without owing anyone anything.
Both, he and Luke, are trying to navigate their entry into their sixties with grace. They keep their minds active with games and learning. Every night they spend an hour or two polishing Luke’s pronunciation, as well as deepening his understanding and use of hànzì. They also go walking along the trail on weekends, go into town for dinner twice a month, and take care of the primates, dogs, and cats in the area.
They sleep together, and sometimes they even bathe together.
Every day brings more gray hairs, more wrinkles, more aches and pains, and feel more tired—
It’s not a perfect relationship. No relationship is. But they’re happy.
And that's enough.
Luke gets home at 9:30, and just like every day, Jamie is waiting for him at the door.
Jamie, with his long, almost-white hair, his dark, cat-like eyes, his perfect blue eyeliner, and his piercing gaze.
As usual, Luke touches the silver ring on his finger. Jamie is wearing his too, on the same finger, on the same hand.
He feels his chest tighten with emotion.
“Hi,” he says, as he steps out of the car.
“Hi,” Jamie replies, stepping aside to let him pass.
Inside the cabin, the air conditioning has helped regulate the temperature, making the air feel lighter and cooling the room. An unmistakable aroma of sautéed vegetables and steamed pork fills every corner of the house.
It's good to be home, he thinks, placing his belongings on the couch.
“Eww, you're sticky,” Jamie says, cupping Luke's face between his hands.
“It's summer. Everyone's sticky.”
“Sooner or later you'll get used to the humidity.” Jamie laughs, nudging him toward the kitchen with one hand.
“I hope so.”
They eat dinner in relative silence, exchanging knowing glances, unspoken smiles, and the occasional comment about their day. The minutes pass, and the night deepens into pitch black. The stars shine brightly in the misty summer sky.
Once they are done with dinner, they sit on the patio by the entrance with a deck of cards and a pitcher of iced tea.
“How’s your back?” Luke asks, taking a sip of his tea.
"Old."
“Want a massage?”
“What I want is your clumsy, rough hands away from me, thank you very much.”
“Your loss.” Luke shrugs as he deals the cards.
The summer breeze is pleasant. The dim lighting and the quiet are exactly what he needs after a long day in the city. Maybe tomorrow they can cook dinner together, or maybe—
“Do you enjoy living here?” Jamie’s voice breaks the silence.
Luke looks up. Their eyes meet, and he feels the metal of the ring digging into his skin.
The corners of his mouth turn up.
No answer is necessary.