Tristan snapped the binder clips together, sealing in the latest printed email from Gabe. He kept each one, even the emails he sent to Gabe, printed in order, in a binder, so he could read them whenever he wanted. Apparently they’d been emailing daily for the last couple of weeks. The binder helped remind him he had a friend out there. A smoking hot friend, judging by the only photo he had of them.

Today’s latest email was dated September thirtieth, sent at twelve thirty p.m. He scanned the page again, reminding himself of the contents. His eyes caught on the third paragraph’s first line. Do you feel anything yet? I know it’s early, but I’m really pulling for you.

He wasn’t sure what that meant, so he flipped back to an email from the day before.

Right. Drug trial. Memory improvement.

“I guess I’m not feeling anything,” he told the page. One day after the first injection was way too soon. He probably had it written down somewhere about the time frame for improvement, but he didn’t feel like searching.

“Good morning,” Noel said from behind him.

Tristan jumped and nearly dropped the binder. Noel and his boyfriend stood just inside of his room, both of them grinning like they had a secret. Tristan stared at the black-haired man next to Noel, willing his name to come.

Nothing.

“Shane,” he said before Tristan could even ask.

“Right, yes.” Shane sounded familiar enough. “What are you guys doing here? It’s Tuesday.”

“We have a surprise for you,” Noel said. “Wanna go on a road trip?”

“Definitely.” Anything that got him out of Benfield for a while. “Do I get to know where? I’ll probably forget by the time we get there.”

“Nope. Complete and utter surprise.”

“Okay, cool.” Tristan grabbed his current notebook and a pen. “Lead the way.”

He signed himself out at the front desk, then followed the pair to Noel’s car. No one really said anything, and judging by the way Noel and Shane kept tossing looks back and forth, it was a pretty big surprise. Tristan tapped his fingers against his knee and watched the scenery go by.

“So did you have any soreness from the injection yesterday?” Noel asked. He met Tristan’s eyes in the rearview.

“Um, hold on.” Tristan flipped back through yesterday’s entries. “A little bit. Kind of like a dull ache, but only for about an hour or so.”

“That’s good.”

“Might last longer the more frequently I get the shots.”

“We’re all pulling for you,” Shane said. “Sincerely. I hope this helps.”

“Thank you. Me too.” He liked Shane because he was considerate, and because he made Noel so happy. He was also a little jealous, because they had something Tristan might never have if the treatment didn’t work. Not everyone was as patient as Noel. And Noel was easier because Tristan remembered him from before the accident.

Tristan would never have to ask him what his name was.

They were on the road for a while before he spotted a sign for Stratton. “I know that name, don’t I?” he asked.

“You sure do,” Noel said. “This is the town where I live. You’ve been here half a dozen times or so.”

“Cool. What are we doing today?”

“That’s part of the surprise.”

Do I know about a surprise? A surprise for me?

He stayed quiet instead of looking like a fool. Noel drove into a small town nestled in the hills. Shopping center, fast food, nice homes. Typical small-town Pennsylvania without being too poor. They ended up in a neighborhood of boxy, midcentury homes with cut lawns, trash cans by the sidewalk and older-model cars in the driveways.

“Do I know someone who lives here?” Tristan asked.

“Actually, yes you do,” Noel said.

“Okay.”

Noel pulled into a two-car driveway in front of a small, single-story home. White paint, blue trim. Neat hedges. A simple brick stoop. The front lawn was cut, if a little small, and there was no garage. Nothing about it seemed familiar at all. Both men got out, so Tristan followed them up a brick path to the front door.

Instead of knocking, Noel stuck a key in the knob and pushed open the blue front door. He went inside first, practically vibrating with energy. Tristan followed, with Shane right on his heels, as bubbly as Noel. Tristan stared at the pair, who looked ready to explode with whatever their secret was.

“Am I supposed to guess who lives here?” Tristan asked. The walls were bare, revealing evidence of nail holes and recently removed artwork. No furniture to speak of in the boxy living room, or to the left in the small dining room. “Are they nomads?”

“We live here,” Shane said. “I’ve already sold the trailer. We closed on the house yesterday. Noel wanted to bring you here to tell you.”

“You bought a house?” he asked Noel, disbelief making everything a little fuzzy. “Really?”

“Yes.” Noel’s eyes shone with emotion. “We’re moving in this week.”

“We’d sleep here tonight but the bed won’t be delivered until tomorrow,” Shane said. “It even has a guest bedroom. It’s the perfect size for us. And maybe a dog.”

“You’re getting a dog?” Tristan asked.

“We’ve discussed it.”

“And made no decisions,” Noel said.

“And I get to decorate the whole place, because Noel says he doesn’t really care as long as I stay away from animal prints.”

“He hates animal prints, especially in clothes,” Tristan said.

“For good reason.” Noel steered him down a short hallway and into a kitchen. With no appliances.

“Damn, you guys got a fixer upper, huh?”

“It was a good price,” Shane said. “And I’ve got the money to fix it up the way we want.” His expression darkened briefly. Tristan didn’t ask why, or where he’d gotten a wad of cash for home renovations. For all Tristan recalled, Shane could be a closeted millionaire.

Except that probably wasn’t it, because Noel grabbed Shane’s hand and didn’t let go.

Conversation switch, stat.

“Do I get to help fix it up?” Tristan asked. “I can paint and stuff.”

“Oh, you are definitely going to help,” Noel said. “Once the interior designer here decides on paint colors, we’ll make a weekend of it or something.”

“Sounds like fun.” And terrifying. “Um, have I spent the night anywhere but my room since the accident happened? I don’t feel like I have.”

Noel shook his head. “No, you haven’t.”

“So it will be an experiment for all involved. I mean, if I freak out in the middle of the night you can always take me home.”

“Nah, that would be like giving up. I’m never giving up on you, Tris.”

“Even if I’m like this the rest of my life?”

“Even if.” Noel used his free hand to thump him under the chin. “But I thought we were being positive? If this treatment works, you won’t be like this forever.”

“Treatment?” I’m doing something new?

“Yup.” Patient as ever, Noel explained the clinical trial.

“Forty percent is good odds,” Tristan said. “I could have a real life.”

“Yes, you could. That’s what we’re all praying for. So you want to see the rest of the house?”

“Definitely.”

After a quick tour of the upstairs, Noel led him through the kitchen and out the back door. The instant he saw it, Tristan understood why they’d picked this particular house. The front lawn was small, but the fenced-in backyard was huge. Three large oak trees stood near the rear of the property, providing a nice area of shade. A wide brick patio gave them the perfect place to host summer barbecues.

And the pool. An in-ground pool, covered at the moment, but Tristan knew what it was. A shed stood near it, probably for equipment and stuff.

“Dude,” Tristan said.

“Yep.” Noel bounced on his toes, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’ve always wanted a pool.”

“And now I have one.”

“The big jerk didn’t tell me that,” Shane said. “When I demanded to know what was on his wish list for a house, he said he didn’t care.”

“And that was true,” Noel replied. “Having or not having a pool wasn’t a deal breaker. But it definitely made me lean toward this house.”

“Since it’s practically October we aren’t going to bother with it this year, but come next spring? Pool party. Major pool party.”

“I am so here,” Tristan said.

Noel laughed. “You’d better be.”

“This is all so cool. I’m really happy for you guys.” He side-eyed his best friend. “Look at you, settling down. Who’d have thought?”

“Hey, I always wanted to settle one day. You were the one who always said variety was the spice of life.”

Tristan shrugged. “Okay, so I’m a slut. You weren’t exactly a monk, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Shane said. “I want stories.”

“How about food instead?” Noel said. “Dixie’s Cup for lunch?”

“Well, it’ll be hard to fix lunch here without a stove. And don’t think I’m letting him off the hook. I still want stories about your college conquests.”

“College days are clear in my mind,” Tristan said. “Ask anytime.”

“I will get you back for this,” Noel said to him.

“Bring it, Carlson.”

On the ride to Dixie’s Cup, Tristan wrote down every detail he remembered about Noel’s new house. Even though his relationship with Shane sometimes made his jealousy sit up and take notice, Tristan was thrilled for Noel. He loved seeing his best friend so happy and settled. He loved the small house and the big backyard. Even more, he loved the idea of visiting them both there.

Of taking more steps toward actually living his life, rather than simply existing in it.

* * *

Gabe stuffed his gym shorts into his workout bag on top of his sweaty T-shirt and sneakers. He hated wearing his smelly clothes home from the gym, even though the locker room made him feel self-conscious. Which he’d never admit to his gym buddy Jon, because Jon would tease him endlessly about the big bad porn top afraid of someone ogling his bare ass.

Jon didn’t give a shit. He spent more time in the locker room totally naked than in any other state of dress or half dress. And he had plenty to be proud of—sculpted six-pack, perfectly defined V, everything smooth and hairless. Plus he was blond and had a boy-next-door adorableness about him that made him perfect for porn.

He also had a great ass. Gabe had been there several times, always in a professional capacity. As much as they got along outside the Mean Green set, and as well as they played off each other on set, they had no personal chemistry. Not that it mattered if they did. He couldn’t seriously date a guy who was fucking other guys, and he didn’t care if that made him a hypocrite. If he ever found someone to be serious with, Gabe would tell him about porn. They could dump him or deal.

I wonder what Tristan would think.

He doubted that Shane had ever told Tristan about his stint in porn, so there was no predicting Tristan’s reaction. He seemed like an open-minded guy.

Not that it mattered, because unless this drug trial actually worked, they had no real chance of anything beyond an email relationship.

“Earth to Gabe,” Jon said. “You gonna close the locker, or are you willing it with your mind?”

Gabe blinked at his friend, who was actually dressed and standing with his own gym bag slung over one shoulder. Gabe shut the locker door a little too hard, and the noise echoed in the mostly empty room. Midafternoon on a Tuesday wasn’t the gym’s busiest time of day.

“Who’s got you so distracted?” Jon asked as they headed for the exit. He was as tall as Gabe, not quite as broad in the shoulders, and he winked at anyone who let eye contact linger. Jon actually enjoyed the infrequent moments when he was publicly recognized for his porn.

Gabe occasionally signed an autograph or two himself. Tony Ryder had a fan base.

“No one,” Gabe replied. So far, Tristan was a secret known only to his dads, and he wanted to keep it like that.

“Liar. I’ve seen you zoned out from fatigue and from worrying about your old lady. This was a new kind of zoned out. An I’m thinking about someone hot zoned out.”

“I’m not thinking about anyone. Shut up so we can go get our smoothies.”

Jon made a clucking noise that said he was leaving it for now, but not forever.

Protein smoothies from the gym’s café had become a ritual for the last year or so of working out together. Jon had confessed to a previous history of an eating disorder brought on by a bad relationship, so Gabe had committed to helping him stay on track. While being physically fit was necessary for modeling, Jon wanted to take care that he didn’t slip back into old habits of overworking and skipping meals.

Their gym had a small café that served a variety of smoothies, cut fruit and salads. Gabe’s favorite was the chocolate protein smoothie. Jon liked to change things up and try different combinations. Today he ordered the Citrus Sunburst.

“How’s Henry doing?” Gabe asked as they settled at an empty table.

“He’s in good spirits.” Jon sipped at his smoothie, elbows on the table. “The last round of chemo is this week, and his doctor is encouraged.”

“That’s excellent.”

“Yeah.”

Jon’s best friend and mentor, Henry Pearson, had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several weeks ago, and his doctors were aggressively treating it. Gabe didn’t know the whole story between the mismatched pair, only that Henry was roughly thirty years older than Jon, and Henry had been his first gay friend after being kicked out by his parents at age eighteen. Gabe also knew that Henry meant the world to Jon and that watching him go through cancer treatments was incredibly painful.

Another reason why he was glad he knew about Jon’s eating disorder. Anorexia was about control, and cancer was far from a controllable thing.

“I’m going to go see him tonight,” Jon said. “He’s been bitching about wanting to watch the newest Marvel movie, so I promised I’d bring it over.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I hope so. He’s got that metallic taste in his mouth again, but he insists that popcorn is one of the things that overpowers it. Apparently he eats so much of it that his air popper is giving him fits.”

Gabe chuckled. “He’ll have to put a new one on his Christmas list.”

“Yeah.” Jon’s smile flickered. “Fucker better be here for Christmas.”

“He will be.” Gabe couldn’t really promise that, but it got Jon smiling again.

“Henry would be the first one to tell you he’s okay with dying, but damn it, I’m not ready to let him go.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Gabe was lucky that he’d never experienced real loss in his twenty-four years. He loved his dads and couldn’t imagine life without them. They’d had one scare with Richard when Gabe was twelve, but other than that he was doing well on his meds. And even though his mother was a pain in the ass on her best days, he loved her too.

Gabe’s phone pinged with an email alert. Tristan.

“Okay, there’s the look again,” Jon said. “Who is he?”

“Huh?”

“You just got that same look you had in the locker room. I know you’re holding out on me, pal. Spill it.”

“Not a chance.”

“You know I’m going to keep pestering you until you tell me.”

“I also know that I am far more patient than you, so your curiosity will be more annoying to yourself than your pestering will be to me.”

Jon crossed his arms and sulked. “Jerk.”

“Hey, a guy’s entitled to some privacy.”

“Says the porn star.”

Gabe glanced around, because Jon had said that a little loudly. No one seemed to be paying attention. “Emotional privacy, dumbass. And maybe shout it next time.”

Jon shrugged. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Neither am I, but I also don’t go around advertising it.”

“You should. You’d get more dates that way.”

“Yeah? When was the last time you went out?”

Jon proved his maturity by blowing a raspberry. “I don’t need the emotional complication of dating right now.”

“Ditto.” Gabe occasionally craved the connection and wonder of waking up next to someone he loved, but not enough to take that plunge again anytime soon. The emotional scars that Andrew left behind were still fading.

“Oh, hey, did I tell you? Benny’s coming back to shoot week after next.”

“Yeah? He’s feeling better?”

“Loads, apparently.”

One of the goofiest, most flirtatious models at Mean Green, Benny Taylor had decided two months ago to start PrEP. He’d had to go on a filming hiatus when the side effects became too much for him. His system must have started acclimating if the nausea and dizzy spells were going away.

Gabe had only ever given brief consideration to the HIV prevention drugs available, but the long list of short- and long-term side effects had turned him off the idea. He didn’t have sex outside of his regular scenes, and except for one time, he always topped. And he’d never had a condom break.

“You ever think about taking something like that?” Jon asked.

“Thought about it. Not for me.”

“Yeah, me either. The last thing I need is something else to make me hate food.” He checked the time on his phone. “Dude, I gotta bounce. See you Friday.”

“See you then.”

Gabe opened the email, always eager to know what Tristan was up to.

G—

Noel and Shane bought a house. A real house with a huge backyard and a pool, and just rereading my notes gets me excited again. It has two bedrooms, and once the guest room is fixed up I can stay overnight. It will be my first time sleeping anywhere except Benfield since the accident, so that’s awesome. I hope I don’t wake up and freak out on them. And they asked me to help paint and decorate and stuff. Did I mention they had a pool? (haha, I know I did, but I love it, I love swimming.)

We went to lunch, and I spent the rest of the afternoon with them, and now I’m back at Benfield. Nothing else really exciting. I really wanted to tell you about the house. I hope you’re having a good day. I look at your photo often enough that your face is becoming familiar at first glance. Not as familiar as Shane but I’ve known him longer and see him in person more frequently. Maybe we can hang out for real again.

October is tomorrow. It’s kind of depressing to look at a calendar and realize another month down that I don’t remember. But the house makes me happy again, so there is that. Later. —T

Gabe read the email twice, as was his habit when a new one showed up. Tristan’s excitement over the new house leapt off the screen, and it excited Gabe. He was also happy for Shane, who finally seemed to be moving forward with his life.

Maybe we can hang out in person again.

“Maybe we can,” Gabe said.

I hope we can.