“That’s actually more beer than I expected,” said Karl. He looked at the other two cases sitting on the porch. “Far, far more.”

“What you don’t drink, I will,” said Burns, pushing past him into the apartment.

Karl had never really thought of Burns as being moody, but his behavior lately was calling that into question. He followed Burns to the kitchen, watched him shove a case into the fridge, except for one can, which he popped and began drinking right there.

“You understand that when someone says celebration they’re actually talking about a happy time, right?” he asked Burns.

Burns guzzled that can, his throat moving with every swallow, and when it was done, he crushed the can in his fingers. “Damn right,” he said. “Happy time.”

“I take it telling your folks didn’t go well.”

Burns was already cracking open a second one. “I didn’t tell them yet.”

Karl put his hand out, taking the can from Burns. “Dude. Clearly something is going on. Please don’t tough-guy your way through it, especially if your plan is to drink yourself into oblivion in front of me.”

“You don’t understand, man.”

“I am exceptionally intelligent. It’s part of my charm. Why don’t you try me out.”

“Delia knows.”

That was puzzling. He’d thought about calling her to apologize for avoiding her the other day in the Cray lobby. Hell, why not, it was Karl’s Apology Week.

“She knows what?”

“About us.”

He shook his head. “I doubt that. I didn’t tell her, and I know you didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. She figured it out.”

Karl cocked his head to the side, as two thoughts clicked together. “Wait, were you with her earlier? When you were in such a hurry to get me off the phone?”

“I panicked.”

Karl took a swallow of the beer he’d confiscated. “You panicked.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Karl.”

“What? I didn’t accuse you of doing anything wrong. But you’re acting awfully guilty for someone who hasn’t done anything.”

Burns reached into the fridge and got another beer. “I can’t take it, man. She knows. She says it was from the look on my face when I spoke to you.”

“Aww, how sweet. Disturbing, but sweet.”

“It’s not sweet, it has me fucking spooked,” said Burns.

They walked back to the living room, and Burns told him a creepy tale involving the preacher beating him at basketball and then hinting at Burns’ sexuality.

“Forgive me for saying this, but damn your church people are invasive,” said Karl.

“I know! I feel like it’s all going to come out into the open!”

“Well, yeah. It should. You should just be open. Then they have nothing to hold over your head.”

Burns sipped his beer. “Man, can we not repeat that same conversation a hundred times? I realize that. I know.”

“It seems like everybody knows. Your mom is worried you’re gay, the preacher and Delia are both convinced you’re gay, hell, even I’m starting to suspect something, after you sucked my cock.”

“Can you be serious?”

Karl shook his head. “Can you? Because you’re a grown man, and you’re sitting there all freaked out because people might find out you have a boyfriend. Who the fuck cares, Burns? It’s the twenty-first century.”

“You’re not the one whose mother is on the edge of a nervous breakdown because of this.”

Your mom is manipulating you because she’s needy. The more he thought about it, the more he thought Burns’ folks weren’t actually evil, not in the way he had been thinking. It was an interesting idea. She was manipulating Burns, not because she was religious, but because she wanted him to stick around, and was willing to use her religion as a blunt object to beat Burns with.

Of course he couldn’t say that, not without angering Burns still further.

He got up from the couch. “How the hell did I get into this situation, where I’ve got to worry about what my boyfriend’s mother thinks? Her sanity isn’t my responsibility, Burns, and it isn’t yours either.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Your parents are cool with all this. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“So all this is why you haven’t told them you’re moving out? You’re scared they’ll read exactly the right message into it?”

Burns groaned. “Dude, I can’t move in with you. Not with all this going on.”

Karl nearly dropped the can he was holding. “What? Are you kidding me? This was supposed to be the Golden Age of Karl! New job, new boyfriend, the pleasures of bourgeois domesticity I’ve denied myself all these years!”

“Maybe in a few months, when things have settled down.”

There wasn’t anything to say to that, not if he wanted to avoid a fight.

For once in his life, he did want to avoid that. Being right hardly seemed to be worth it at all.

He was right. What you believed mattered more than anything, because if you believed the wrong thing—like that gayness was wrong, or that your parents’ opinion meant more than anything—your life would get twisted and small.

If anybody understood that, it should’ve been Burns. Hadn’t Burns parents drilled into him the importance of believing all the right things? Wasn’t that the whole problem, really, that the right things they believed were really evil, crazy things?

Gah, why can’t he talk to me about this? Five minutes of clear-headed discussion would set him right.

He came back to the sofa with two more beers, and handed one to Burns. “I’m sorry you won’t be moving in.”

“I am, too.”

I’m sorry you’re so distant from me. Suddenly it feels like we were closer when we were just friends.

Oh my god, that’s it, isn’t it? That’s exactly what I was afraid of…we’re ruining the friendship.

He tried to lighten the mood: “So, about that butt-sex I was trying to talk you into…”

Burns smiled. “Tell you what. We can try that tomorrow. Tonight, would you just hold me?”

“Hold you? Did my big brave man suddenly become weak and vulnerable?”

Oh shit, why are his eyes glistening, he’s not going to cry, is he?

He wrapped his arms around Burns.

* * *

“Well, well!” said Simon, poking his head in the office door. “Look at you, first day on the job!”

Karl looked up from his new desk, hoping he didn’t look quite as overwhelmed and horrified as he felt. “Do you have a second?”

“I’m dating the boss. It frees up an enormous amount of time.” Simon looked at the tall stack of files on the desk. “Are all those for you? Already?”

Karl swallowed. “There’s a big fight among the Family Cray. Evan wants to write big checks to all the poor people in town. Ash and Callum want to funnel money into a scholarship program, and want to personally approve any applicants. The Board of Directors wants to fund the county science fair, with lots and lots of Cray Reliable banners and swag so everyone knows who’s footing the bill.”

“And this has resulted in…”

“Lots and lots of paperwork for me.”

Simon nodded and picked up one of the folders. “I think Cray Reliable is better at creating paper than it is at creating electrical fittings.”

“I’m not complaining. I’ll get the hang of it.”

“Of course you will. I notice you’re here all by yourself. No guidance? No mentor?”

I think Jay put me here by myself so I could fail in silence, he didn’t say.

“It’s not like I’m really managing anything,” he said. “Just putting papers in the right place and sending them upstairs. Simon?”

His brother set down the folder. “Yeah?”

“I want to ask you something personal, and please don’t lecture me about it. Just answer.”

There wasn’t another chair in the office, so Simon sat on the edge of the desk. “What’s up?”

“It’s this thing with Burns. It’s killing me.”

Simon gave him a look of concern. “What did he do to you?”

“It’s not what he did, it’s what he won’t do. I didn’t realize him being in the closet would be so stressful. Okay, that’s dumb, the whole point of gay liberation is because the closet is toxic, but I guess I never encountered it, so I didn’t understand. But holy shit, Simon, his family is messed up.”

“This surprises you? With all you read about history and everything?”

“I know, but seeing it first-hand is something else. I don’t know what to do, Simon.”

“I guess he’s no closer to coming out, then?”

“He’s in so much pain, and I don’t know how to help him.”

“From the sound of your voice, you’re in pain too. I don’t want to be all negative…but are you sure he’s the one for you? I’ve never understood why you two were friends. He’s some churchy frat guy, he’s your total opposite, and now it turns out he’s also so deep in the closet he can’t tell anyone? Maybe you need to get out of this before you get hurt.”

Karl put his face in his hands. “Hear me out, okay? I know you and the guys don’t like him. That’s cool. But you don’t understand him like I do. He’s good, Simon. He treats me like I’m the greatest thing that ever happened to him.”

“And the most dangerous.”

“That too. He’s so scared of hurting me, of hurting his folks, of hurting anyone.”

“Meanwhile, he’s stabbing you in the heart because he won’t make a decision.”

Karl scowled. “That’s a mean way to put it.”

“I’m your big brother. I’m allowed to be defensive about you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve changed these past few days. Where’s your cockiness? Where’s your conviction that you’re always right?”

“I’ll get it back.”

“Will you? Are you going to let his crisis weigh you down? Maybe you need to back out of this before you get hurt.”

“I’m not breaking up with him.”

“Fine. Then protect yourself. Set some boundaries. Keep yourself from getting any closer to him, until he works this out.”

“How does that work?” Karl asked. “How do you stop from getting close to someone?”

Simon reached across the desk and ruffled Karl’s hair. “You’ll figure it out, little brother. Don’t let him hurt you. You can have fun with him, but maybe don’t get any more serious about him. Not yet.”