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They snuck in after the show had already started and left before it ended. It wouldn’t have been weird if they were seen together, just the two of them, but this felt important to have for themselves. Martin had played one of their songs for Hamzah when he visited him in Toronto for the first time, and every time Hamzah hears it he’s right back in that moment. Driving around at night aimlessly with the windows down. The band had played that song the first time they saw them together, when Martin had first moved to the city. That was two years ago, but to Hamzah it felt like a different lifetime.
Heading out into the summer night the air was balmy and humid. Rain was coming. A comfortable silence settled over the two as they left the crowded venue. It was a short walk to Hamzah’s car, but he wasn’t eager for the night to end. Though he’s usually not one for concerts, this one seemed different. Still not the greatest experience, but it felt like it meant something more. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the company. He felt lighter than he has in months.
He’s shaken from his contemplation when Martin bumps his shoulder.
“You okay, bro?” Martin asks, smiling. “Pretty quiet over there.”
Hamzah quickly smiles back and shrugs.
“Yeah, I was just thinking about… Isn’t it weird how you only moved to Toronto two years ago?”
“That’s what you’re thinking about? You looked so serious.” Martin replies, laughing and shaking his head.
“Why are you laughing? It just feels like you’ve been here the whole time. Or, not that… I don’t know.” Hamzah thinks for a second about what he’s trying to say. “Like, before you got here life felt completely different. Or something. And the two years you’ve been here feels like what it was supposed to be like the entire time, you know? Like things just clicked into place. I was also thinking about when you played that song the first time you visited. They didn’t play that tonight.”
Hamzah looks to Martin for his reply, but Martin keeps looking at him with a stupid grin, hands in his pockets.
“What? What did I say? Stop looking at me like that.”
Martin sighs contentedly and says, “That was sweet.”
“Shut up. It wasn’t that sweet.” Hamzah huffs a laugh, there’s no bite in his reply.
“It was. Thanks.” Martin bumps into Hamzah again, this time wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “They didn’t play that one song from the new album either. The one you like a lot.”
“Yeah, what the fuck?”
They laugh, but the moment doesn’t dissipate. They keep walking to Hamzah’s car, Martin’s arm still draped over Hamzah’s shoulders. Conversation continues; nothing too important, just their typical banter, discussing things that need to get done at the office the next day. They turn onto the quiet residential street Hamzah parked on. It was a warm night, but the tree lined street was considerably cooler than the still bustling city streets. As they approach the car Martin slowly removes his arm from it’s place around Hamzah. Hamzah takes his keys out of his pocket but doesn’t unlock the door, instead he leans his back on the driver’s side door, head tilted up to look at the trees. Martin, unsure of what to do, stops and glances up towards the trees, then down again at Hamzah. Sensing Hamzah isn’t ready to go home, he moves to lean against the car door as well.
They stand like that for a minute or two until Hamzah finally speaks.
“Sorry. For what I said earlier, that was kind of a lot. I mean it though. But don’t make it weird.”
Martin glances at Hamzah, who was still looking at the trees above them.
“I meant what I said too. Thank you. I… Obviously I remember what my life was like before moving here but… I agree with what you said. Everything just clicked.” Martin replies. He notices Hamzah’s cheeks have the slightest flush to them.
Hamzah flicks his eyes to Martin, who was still watching him. Martin smiled. Hamzah smiled. Any tension between them dispersed and they were just two people brought together by random chance. They’ve been called soulmates, and while Hamzah isn’t totally convinced that stuff is real, there really isn’t a better word for their relationship. Sure, they’re best friends, but it was deeper than that. No one else matches him in the same way Martin does. They’re complete opposites in many regards, but that only adds to their connection. They clash and it doesn’t matter. They understand what the other means with no need for explanation. They click.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, both of them again looking up at the sliver of night sky through the branches above, moonlight peeking through.
“Since we’re being real,” Hamzah says, “I don’t think anyone else is crazy enough to try and pull off all the bullshit we do. Thanks for sticking with me. I don’t say that enough.”
Martin’s not sure what overtakes him, if it’s the single drink he had at the show, if it’s Hamzah’s sudden honesty, if it’s the lighting, a combination of all of these things, but he kisses the corner of Hamzah’s mouth. The second he does it he feels like he’s outside of his body. They’re close, but it’s never been like that. Martin has never been very subtle about his attraction to guys, it’s never really mattered to him, especially since he met Mandy. He doesn’t even think he’s ever consciously thought about Hamzah romantically, so he’s not sure what just came over him. Amidst his confusion and panic, the one thing he doesn’t feel is regret.
He looks at Hamzah, almost fearful, trying to convey with his eyes that he also doesn’t know what just happened. Hamzah looks at him with a similar fear in his eyes. Seconds pass as they stare at each other, unblinking. Martin isn’t sure how it happened, who leaned in first, how much time passed as they looked into each others eyes, but the next thing he knows Hamzah’s mouth is on his. It’s messy and frantic, teeth and tongue. Hamzah tastes like mint gum and coffee. Martin knows what Hamzah tastes like. Why doesn’t this feel like a mistake? Martin pulls away and again they look at each other, breaths heavy. Hamzah leans in and steals another quick kiss, hand gripping Martin’s shirt collar.
There’s no coming back from this but it doesn’t seem to matter.
His hand still clutching Martin’s shirt, Hamzah looks up once more at the trees, then back down to Martin, a small smile across his lips. Martin grins, his eyes shining. Hamzah loosens his grip, but Martin is still hyper aware of each point of contact: shoulders close, his hand loose around Hamzah’s waist, Hamzah just shy of stepping on Martin’s feet.
Hamzah laughs breathily, breaking the tension.
“We should probably, um, go.”
Martin nods. “Yeah. Lot’s of stuff to do tomorrow.”
“Shut up, man.”
They dissolve into laughter, delirious. Hamzah unlocks the doors and they get in. They’re quiet on the ride to Martin’s, neither feeling the need to talk about what happened between them. They would eventually, they’ll have to. For now it felt good that it happened, the natural progression of things. Martin plays that song, the words floating out the open windows.
My feelings are true
With ease they allow
The flow of my will
And good sake for you
And good sake for you