The high-pitched ringing in his ears drowned out everything else around him. Owen swallowed hard, his head spinning. “I don’t have feelings for Brody.” Immediately, his defenses went up. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt completely vulnerable standing there in front of Jonah.
Jonah’s eyes softened. “Owen, I’ve known you for years. Don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
That was it; the reason for the vulnerability Owen felt. Jonah knew him better than anyone, and even though Owen didn’t want to talk about Brody anymore tonight, he knew that the two of them still had important things to say.
As the restaurant door opened and a couple of people came out, Owen asked softly, “Look, can we not do this here?” He saw the sadness in Jonah’s eyes and knew it was reflected in his own.
“Yeah, let’s go home,” Jonah agreed.
When they opened the door to their home, the emotional atmosphere quickly became thick, making it difficult to breathe. Owen walked over and started a pot of coffee while Jonah got out two paper hot cups and the milk. They worked in silence for the next couple of minutes, until the aroma of coffee filled the air and they were both seated on the sofa, cups in hand.
Owen didn’t know who should go first. Who should be the one to say what they both had been feeling—but avoiding—for so long now?
Turns out, it was Jonah that took the first step. Not surprising, because between the two of them, Jonah had always been the stronger one. “You know I don’t regret coming here with you, don’t you?” He smiled and sighed, putting his cup down on the coffee table. “It feels like we’ve known each other longer than three years sometimes, doesn’t it?”
Owen looked at the tenderness he saw in Jonah’s silver-blue eyes and nodded. “Feels like I’ve known you forever.”
“We’re making this so much harder than it has to be, Owen.” Jonah took Owen’s hand, squeezed it. “It doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other. I’ll always love you.”
Owen’s hands were shaking, and he put his coffee down before he spilled it. He knew it was pointless to try and swallow the lump in his throat, so he let the tears fall. Jonah, never a man to hide his emotions, was already wiping away his own glistening drops as more fell.
“I’ll always love you too, Jonah. You pulled me out of a fog. I’m not sure I ever would’ve known what it’s like to truly trust someone if you hadn’t worked your way in. You never gave up on my stubborn ass.”
Jonah pushed Owen’s arm, laughing. “You’re worth it, Owen. I hope you realize that now. I don’t ever want you to be that person again—never letting someone get close to you.”
Jonah’s pure heart had been just what Owen needed back then. “You know, I told myself that when I went to college, I would be completely myself without fear and judgement—and violence. But deep down, I still didn’t trust the fact that it was okay to be me, to be a gay man. I had all that shit swimming in my head from high school; all those words floating around making me feel like I was a freak or something was wrong with me. I didn’t truly think that two men could be in a loving, real relationship until I met you.”
“You let me in, and I’ll always be grateful for it. I don’t think we’d be the friends we are today if you hadn’t. What we had was real, and it was amazing.” Jonah paused then said, “But I don’t want that to be the reason you stay with me.” Owen shook his head and opened his mouth to disagree, but Jonah spoke again. “I don’t want it to be the reason I stay, either. Neither one of us should be staying for that reason—you being grateful that I fought my way in, and me being grateful you let me in.”
Owen knew he was right. Those were the reasons they were both staying, and it wasn’t fair to either one of them. “We’re just not...” God, but the words were so hard to say.
Jonah finished the sentence for him. “We’re just not in love with each other anymore.” He placed his hand on Owen’s face, wiping away some of his tears. “And that’s okay, Owen. You are the most important person in my life, and more than anything, I want to see you happy. This isn’t making either one of us happy anymore. Not in the way it should.”
“I know. I want you to be happy too, Jonah. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and I’m just not doing it justice anymore. You came here for me. Moved away from your family and life in New York and came to this small town, for me.”
“In the beginning, yeah, I did, because you needed to come home, but now I’m staying for me.” Jonah smiled, and finally, Owen saw something other than sadness in his crystal-blue eyes. “I love it here, Owen. The people, the scenery, my job,” reaching out, he grabbed both of Owen’s hands, “my best friend. I’m not going anywhere. Well, that’s a lie. First, I’m gonna go into work tomorrow and see if I can get some time off. Then, I’m going to see my family, and when I get back...” he hesitated then said, “I’m gonna look for my own place.”
“Jonah, you can stay here as long as you want.” Panic rose in Owen’s chest at the thought of Jonah not being around every day.
“I know I could, but I shouldn’t, and I’m not going to. That’s not good for either one of us. We know this isn’t working out anymore romantically. Living together only confuses and complicates things. In any case, I think it’ll be good for me. I’ve never lived on my own. I went from my parents’ house, to living with a college roommate, friends, and finally, living with you. I’m a big boy now. Gotta stand on my own two feet.” He winked and both of them laughed softly.
Owen shook his head and grabbed the back of Jonah’s neck, gently pulling their foreheads together. They sat like that for a few minutes, silently pledging to each other they would always remain the best of friends. Owen ran his hand up through Jonah’s blond hair then pulled away.
“So, you’re going to ask them tomorrow for time off?” Owen asked.
“I don’t have any appointments scheduled yet for next week, and I can keep up with my classes online. Tomorrow is my last appointment with that guy, Cameron. I’m not sure I helped him any. I’m hoping I can get him to think about getting more training sessions.”
“Is he in bad shape?”
“Physically, nothing I can’t help him with, but he’s painfully shy. I thought, maybe if he took some more sessions with me, I could get him to come out of his shell a little, ya know?” Jonah’s eyes were always so sincere. If he could help anyone he came in contact with, he would.
Owen squeezed Jonah’s hand. “See, biggest heart of anyone I know. If anyone can do that for him, Jonah, it’s you.”
Jonah blushed then stood up. “Come on. It’s late, and you have to get up early.”
He took Owen’s hand and led them to their bedroom. There was no intimacy, and for the first time in a long time, Owen breathed a sigh of relief because it was okay; a weight had been lifted off both of their shoulders. Together, they stretched out on the bed, on top of the covers and completely clothed. Owen fell asleep with the comforting knowledge that, no matter what, they would always be there for each other.
~ɤ~
It was one in the morning when Gabe and Brody finally stumbled through the door of Brody’s small apartment. They’d ended up at the bar after dinner. Gabe was exhausted and Brody on unsteady feet, though not sloppy drunk like he should’ve been. Since the night he first met Gabe, the night he needed to numb the pain, he hadn’t been shitfaced; he didn’t like it.
“Ugh, looks like I’m staying here tonight. I didn’t get a room at the B and B before we went out. I’m telling you, Brody, you’re lucky I love you.”
Brody sat down on his bed, rubbing his face with his hands then pushing them up through his hair. “I am. Thanks, Gabe...for being here.” Brody still had a hard time believing that he was, and then he asked the question he’d been avoiding all night. “How long are you staying?”
Gabe flashed Brody that gorgeous smile and said, “Hmm... Well, you know, I was going to just be here for the weekend, but I think I’ve been given a reason to extend my stay.” He wiggled his eyebrows and picked up his bag.
“Shit, why does that worry me?” Brody leaned over, resting his forearms on his thighs when an awful thought crept in. He shot his head up, the room spun a little, and asked. “Wait, your reason doesn’t happen to be a gorgeous, muscular blond, does it?”
“You know me so well.” He pulled black, silk pajama pants out of his bag. “But don’t worry, it’s not the blond you’re thinking of. No, while you were drinking that tall, dark, and sexy out of your system, I was taking in the delicious scenery. Spotted me a big, broody man sitting the corner. Do you think Dolce and Gabbana make camouflage suits? It’s huntin’ season.” Gabe winked, his dimpled, Cheshire grin spreading across his face, and began changing his clothes.
Brody groaned and lay back on the bed, draping an arm over his eyes. “Wedding ring?”
Gabe sat down on the bed and patted Brody’s stomach. “Like I said, you know me so well.” Lying down next to him, he hit Brody’s stomach a little harder with the back of his hand. “Or maybe you don’t. You know Jonah is way too sweet for me. His roommate seems a little hot under the collar―which is sexy as hell―but I got the message loud and clear that I’m not allowed to see under that collar.”
Brody looked over at Gabe and shot him a warning look. “No, you’re not. Besides, they aren’t roommates, Gabe, they’re boyfriends.” Damn it, it really shouldn’t twist him up to say that.
Gabe’s head popped up off of the mattress, and he looked down at Brody like he was crazy. “Shut the fuck up!”
“I’m serious.”
Gabe turned his upper body toward Brody, leaning on his left elbow. “I can’t say I’ve met many people genuinely in love. You know that. But I can say that I read people well; you know that too.”
Brody pressed the heels of his hands into his aching eyes. “What’s your point, Gabe?”
“There is no way in hell those two are in love. No fucking way. I’d bet my left nut, and you know the jewels are priceless. ”
Brody shook his head and looked away, not wanting to hear one of Gabe’s ridiculous theories. It took him by surprise when Gabe placed a gentle finger on his chin and turned Brody’s head so that he could look at him. The honest look on Gabe’s face was one Brody knew to take seriously. “Brody, Owen had his eyes on you the entire time he was there.”
Brody inhaled and closed his eyes. “Not for the reason you think, Gabe.” Brody got up, pacing the room, about to connect the dots for his friend. “Remember I told you what I was like in high school? About the asshole that I used to be, and the guy that I used to torment? That I stood by and watched as my so-called friends harassed him every fucking day? Well, tonight was your lucky night, my friend, because you just had the pleasure of meeting the person who despises me almost as much as my father, and with good reason.”
“Owen was that kid?” Gabe asked, surprised.
“Yup. Whatever you think you saw tonight, you’re wrong. He hates me.” Brody stared at his feet and rubbed his chest as though he could wipe that deep-seated guilt away.
Gabe’s brow creased with sympathy. “Brody, from what you’ve told me, you let it happen, which I’m not excusing, but you never were the one to actually hurt him.”
Brody covered his face, muffling his words. “That’s not exactly true.”
Brody followed Chuck, Adam, and Dave to the back of Milton’s Bakery. He didn’t know why they had to do this―what it fucking proved. But he followed, and he stayed, because that’s just the kind of fucking coward that he was. They waited fifteen minutes, talking shit about chicks they wanted to fuck and chicks they’d already fucked. It was all a competition. A my-dick-is-bigger-than-your-dick contest and each story grew more unbelievable than the last.
The back door to the bakery opened, just like it did every day right before closing time when Owen would be taking the last bag of trash out to the dumpster. Brody’s heart was racing. He didn’t want to fucking be here―would give anything not to be here right now.
“Hey there, Dicky.”
Owen jumped at hearing Chuck’s voice, but it was too late. Chuck had already gotten too close, easily reaching out and grabbing Owen by his shirt, swinging him back into the red, brick wall. Brody winced, as if he could feel the force of Owen’s body hitting the brick. When was it going to be enough? He thought they would get bored with it a few months after it started, but here they were, a week before graduation, attacking Owen outside of his after-school job.
Chuck pulled Owen toward him and slammed him back against the wall again. Owen didn’t make a sound, didn’t cry out, or call for help. Why did he have to be so fucking stubborn? Just scream for fuck’s sake!
But he didn’t.
“So, Dicky, aren’t you going to miss our little get-togethers? Soon, we’ll all be leaving for college, and we won’t be able to spend any quality time together.” Chuck’s mocking voice was laced with disgust. “I asked you a question, cocksucker.”
Still, Owen didn’t say a word.
Chuck grabbed Owen’s shirt with his left hand, slamming him back into the wall then immediately using his right to punch Owen in the stomach.
Brody couldn’t take it anymore. “Chuck, that’s enough.”
All heads whipped in his direction, including Owen’s. Chuck looked at him, his eyes shooting daggers. “It’s enough when I say it is.”
“What’s the fucking point, man? Just let him go.”
“Wait, are you defending a cocksucker, Brody? Is there something you wanna tell us?”
Brody’s heart was pounding so hard, blood rushed throughout his body, a nervous sweat coating his skin. “What? No!”
Adam and Dave turned to Brody and started in, agreeing with Chuck, as they always did. “You a fucking cocksucker, Brody?” Adam spat out along with Dave’s insult, “He your pretty-boy boyfriend, Brody?”
“Shut the fuck up, I’m not a cocksucker,” Brody growled.
Chuck laughed, sending a chill down Brody’s spine. “Come to think of it, boys, Brody here has never had the honors has he? Always one of us taking charge and teaching this faggot a lesson.”
Shit! Shit, why didn’t he keep his fucking mouth shut?
“Man, this is some good shit! Gonna make a fucking awesome story in school tomorrow. Brody Walker defends his queer boyfriend. Sound good, Brody? Did I get that right?” Chuck was laughing at him now, and as usual, Adam and Dave started in too.
“I said shut the fuck up. I’m not a fucking faggot.” Brody was flexing his fists, feeling his blood pressure rise.
“Prove it,” Chuck challenged, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Oh fuck. The situation spiraled out of control so goddamn fast. What the fuck was he going to do? He should’ve kept his fucking mouth shut.
Brody walked over and stood in front of Owen, the pain in Owen’s blue eyes stabbing right through him. He flexed his right fist a few times, feeling the bile rise up in his throat. He was going to be fucking sick.
“Let’s go, Brody. Show us what ya got,” Chuck taunted, with Adam and Dave snickering behind him.
Brody still stood there, his pulse beating in his ears like a fucking drum. He couldn’t do this. All he had to do was walk away.
But they wouldn’t leave it at that, would they?
“He can’t do it. We should’ve known he was a pussy,” Adam said.
Everything was spinning. He was pretty sure he was going to pass the fuck out. Sweat dripped down his temples and his neck, down into the back of his shirt. His hands were shaking, his palms clammy. He didn’t have to do this. Graduation was a week away, and he’d be in college and wouldn’t have to worry about this shit anymore.
“Wasn’t your dad in the military? How’s he going to feel about having a cocksucker for a son?” Chuck asked.
And that was all it took.
Brody drew back and then slammed his fist into Owen’s stomach. The guys laughed around him, and Chuck let Owen crumple to the ground. Brody didn’t hear a thing as they walked away, leaving Owen there. It took everything in him not to turn back around and make sure that Owen got up. He barely even remembered walking to his house or in his front door. He saw his mother come out of the kitchen, her hair hanging down over the left side of her face. Swelling around her eye and the black and blue just barely coloring her skin let Brody know that it had just happened. He fucking hit her again. The bastard fucking hit her again.
Brody was just like him, wasn’t he?
Brody threw his hand over his mouth and took the stairs two at a time, running into the upstairs bathroom and slamming the door shut. He just barely made it over the toilet when he vomited, purging every word Chuck and the guys said, every painful look in Owen’s eyes, and every image of a bruise on his mother’s pale skin. When there was nothing left, he sat back, leaning against the tub. He couldn’t do this anymore. Once he went to Boston, he’d have a new life, and he would never have to see this fucking place again.
Brody could feel Gabe walk up behind him. He’d never told him that story before. It was the one he was most ashamed of. Brody hadn’t hit another person again since that day, vowing to never be that man―never be his father. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that part. I’m not proud of it.”
Gabe squeezed Brody’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Brody, I know you. You’re not that person, and you’re not the only one who would’ve done that in that situation. High school kids are fucking pricks. Hell, you don’t think I was given shit back in high school? I don’t exactly hide my sexuality well.” He nudged Brody’s arm. “What’s the fun in that?” Gabe winked and flashed his big grin. “I dealt with assholes every fucking day. You’re not like them. You were a scared kid with reason to be. Maybe it took a while, but you eventually did the right thing.”
Brody went back over and sat on the bed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. “There are times that I think he might forgive me. Then he looks at me like he did tonight, I see the heat of anger in his eyes, and I know he won’t.”
Gabe joined him, gripping the back of Brody’s neck in a show of support. “He may have had heat in his eyes, but I’m willing to bet it wasn’t just from anger. That guy is confused. He’s confused because he’s trying to figure out how in the hell he’s attracted to his high school bully. I say you need to show him exactly why he is.”
Brody’s mouth curved up on one side into a small smile. “Man, I’d love for you to be right.”
Gabe huffed in disbelief. “When am I ever wrong?”
Brody playfully ruffled Gabe’s dark hair. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Hey, not the hair,” Gabe scolded, slapping Brody’s hand away. Then he smiled and said, “I’m glad I’m here too.”