9

It took a long time for Joel to finally fall asleep. Even when he slept, he shifted restlessly. I couldn’t even calm down enough to close my eyes. Our exchange in the shower didn’t solve anything. Joel understood why I didn’t want to fuck other people, not even Christoffer and Adam, but that was it. He still needed a healthy way to deal with the events of the past few months, and I had nothing. No idea how to proceed, how to help him. I must have drifted off at some point, though, because suddenly I jolted awake, disoriented. There was faint light outside—not yet sunrise, but close. It must have been just after four in the morning.

I reached instinctively to the left where Joel slept, but his spot was empty and cold. Panic tore me out of my haze. I rolled to get up and find him but stopped mid-movement.

Joel sat naked on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his thighs, head bent. He was silent.

“Joel?”

No reply. He didn’t move, his silhouette ghost-like in the dark room.

I sat up, threw the covers aside and shuffled closer, running a hand over his shoulder. His skin felt cold under my palm.

“What’s going on, baby?”

He shook his head but didn’t answer. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his face.

I waited. He’d tell me when he was ready.

My heart thumped, and I tried not to imagine the worst. Was he…angry with me still? Was he thinking about leaving? It was his house. Worst case, he’d try to kick me out.

Joel’s shoulder trembled, and I heard a faint sniffling sound. A shudder came a second later. He lifted his head, bracing his hands on his knees, and sucked in a breath. I realized he was trying to hold back tears.

“Joel, my baby.” I hugged his shoulders and torso from behind, leaning closer. Joel whimpered softly at my touch. He turned, fell into my embrace, and his control broke. Sobs wracked his body, his hands clutched and clawed at my skin. Soon I felt a river of tears flow down my chest.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him. Joel strained closer, shaking and sobbing. Every sound he made squeezed my heart like a fist, and I felt my own tears gather and spill.

The sky outside grew lighter, the sun hiding just beneath the horizon. I realized I was rocking back and forth with Joel in my arms, as if I could soothe him like a newborn. Sadness and relief mingled and merged into silence. Joel’s hands began smoothing up and down my back, and I kissed his temple.

“We’re okay, Joel. We made it,” I told him.

He shifted to the side and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His head lolled on my shoulder.

“Remember? You worried if we wouldn’t make it,” I continued.

He nodded, sniffling loudly. “Yeah,” he agreed on a rugged exhale. “Damn. I keep doing this. Fuck. I am so sorry.”

“Hey! Don’t apologize. Not for this.”

“Last night, I was an ass. You didn’t deserve that.”

I shrugged and was about to say something mundane, like that he shouldn’t worry about it, but Joel continued without waiting for my answer. “Finding you, having you, it…freed me. And the sex. God, from the very first time you fucked me…I thought I could feed on the feeling alone and never need anything else.” He chuckled brokenly. “Every time we made love I felt stronger. Fucking invincible.”

I stayed silent, not daring to interrupt his thoughts. He was finally talking to me.

“But you’re right. I can’t fuck my way out of this shit. I thought I was ready for him to go, ready to be on my own. But I wasn’t ready to realize I have always been alone. That the only love I’d ever had died with Mom when I was twelve.”

He paused, his hand gripped the side of my neck, and he nuzzled my collarbone. He was gathering strength from our closeness. It was the first time he had spoken with me about his mother.

“I feel weak for craving his affection.” The short sentence was laced with self-hatred.

I caught his face between my hands and made him look me in the eyes. “You’re so strong, Joel. You carry all this pain, and yet you still excel at life. You’re fucking brilliant at everything you do. You are invincible.”

Joel searched my face. “I didn’t realize how much you love me until you yelled at me yesterday.”

I didn’t have the right words anymore. I kissed him instead, and we sank on the bed, tangled together.

Naked, we rolled and kissed. Our cocks caressed each other, but there was no urgency. I was content to just have Joel in my arms, his lips brushing my jaw and my throat, his hands sliding over my back and sides, the smell of his hair filling my nostrils…

Our movements slowed, and finally Joel drifted off lying partially on top of me, one leg between mine and his arm around my torso. I kissed the top of his head and tried to empty my brain enough to be able to sleep as well.

***

Saturday was bleak. Joel woke early, and I stirred as soon as I heard him move around the house. After a short visit to the bathroom, I joined him in the kitchen. He stood in front of the coffee machine, waiting for the second cup to brew. The first stood on the counter next to his hand, a few droplets of dark liquid around it. He lifted his gaze when he heard me and feigned a smile. Drained, pale, eyes drifting—Joel was far away.

“Baby,” I sighed and stepped closer, hugging him to me.

He was quiet.

Kissing my cheek, he turned away and went to fetch the milk from the fridge.

“How about we go out? A hike or something?” I suggested, grasping at straws.

“Okay,” he mumbled and handed me the coffee. Again, one corner of his mouth lifted in a pathetic half-smile. He tried to keep it together, but he looked miserable.

“Joel, you don’t have to pretend anything for me.”

He blinked, looking down, and sipped his coffee. “Just let me pretend for myself.”

Shit.

From the pile of bullshit Joel’s father had hurled at his son just before the bitter old man died, there seemed to be one thing which Joel accepted as a truth. He thought he was weak. And he believed allowing himself to grieve was a failure. Me telling him otherwise wouldn’t make any difference now. I would tell him anyway because I loved him. However, he needed to understand for himself.

I kissed him and nuzzled his face, and he let me, holding me close with a hand clasped around my neck.

After a while, he said, “Let’s go out. I need to move.”

I noticed he didn’t eat anything.

We took a long hike in the woods behind Joel’s house. We barely spoke, but we held hands most of the time. Sometimes, he squeezed mine, reminding me and maybe even himself that we were there together in the silence.

The day warmed quickly as stripes of sunshine heated the paths that crisscrossed the woods. We were both sweaty and parched when we came back.

Joel managed to eat some pasta I made for lunch, even though it was half of what he usually ate. We took a beer each and sat on the sofa, and I thought I might try to bring him to the city in the afternoon. Distraction could be good for him. However, as I quietly explained to him about a gallery where one of my friends was showing his photographs, Joel fell asleep against my shoulder, a half-empty bottle of beer between his hands.

I took the bottle, put it on the coffee table, and stood carefully, letting Joel sink into the cushions. I covered him with a blanket and went outside on the patio to finish my own beer.

This too would pass. I knew. I just wished I had a time machine for us so Joel could skip this part.

***

By three-thirty that afternoon, Joel was still asleep. I was glad. He needed to rest. I burned some energy on his stationary bike, showered and sat outside on the patio again. The sun was high, the early summer getting hotter by the day. The pine trees hummed, and lazy, fluffy clouds traveled the blue sky as if the world was at its kindest today.

Kindness. That’s what I could do for Joel. I would shower him with kindness. I called my mom.

“Tyler! How are you? And how is Joel? How horrible for him. I can’t stop thinking about it. You’re with him?” came the waterfall of words.

“Mom, shh. If you want answers you have to slow down.”

“I’m sorry, love. Tell me.” She exhaled into the phone.

I waited a moment to be sure she was listening. “I’m good. I’m at Joel’s house, but he’s asleep. He’s exhausted. I was thinking… I want to distract him in some non-toxic way, and I thought of you.”

“A non-toxic distraction?” she asked, her tone teasing.

“You know what I mean.” Miraculously, I already felt her energy spill into me just from the power of her voice.

“Of course. I’d love to meet him. Do you want me to come over? Or come to my place! I can always put together some tapas!”

I felt my lips stretch. “So you’re free tonight?”

“For you and Joel, always,” she said.

“I haven’t talked to him about it yet. He might refuse. I just wanted to check with you first and think it through.”

“I’ll be as non-toxic as any parent ever, I promise.”

“I know, Mom. Just…no heavy questions, no emotional outbursts, okay? Be your shiny, cheery self.”

“Aww. You want your mom to cheer up your man. I’m honored.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you know if he agrees. Thank you.” I hoped Joel wouldn’t think it was weird. I had two people in my life who had always been there for me, and whom I could count on to drag me out of any mess. Christoffer and my mother. After last night, Mom felt like a healthier option.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured me. “If he’s not ready, we’ll do it next week.”

“You’re wonderful.”

“Ha! I know.” She laughed out loud and hung up.

I realized I was grinning. I was one lucky, spoiled child.

I stood, turned to go back to the house and walked right into Joel. “Oh.”

“Conspiring behind my back?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I winced. Then I looked at him some more. He was shirtless again, only wearing loose linen pants—the same pants he had on yesterday when he walked around with the plug inside him, and I had no idea…

“Tyler.”

I lifted my gaze from his groin back up to his face.

He was smirking. His eyes were puffy, and he was pale, his golden stubble shimmering in the midday sun. The smirk, I realized, was genuine. His beauty punched me in the gut once again.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“We were talking about your mom,” he reminded me.

“Yes. Mom. Of course. She’s been dying to meet you.”

“And you want to go there tonight?”

“If you…feel like it?”

“Yes. You two are close, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Tell her we’ll bring red wine and a selection of olives. Maybe cheese, too? I know a great deli downtown. Where does she live?”

“I love you, Joel,” I told him.

He smiled. It was a bright, slightly goofy smile, the first in what must have been weeks.

***

“The wine is perfection, Joel,” my mom praised.

“Tyler said you like red,” Joel replied, leaning back. He rested his hand on the back of my chair, looking relaxed. He had been tense when we’d entered my mother’s brightly decorated apartment a couple of hours ago. But after only a few minutes, my mom had him chuckling at her thinly veiled innuendos.

“He said that?” Mom raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “I didn’t think he knew, because he never has any at home when I visit.”

“Hey! What do you expect, if you arrive uninvited?” I protested.

“You should always be ready for your mother’s visits, Tyler.”

“Yes, Tyler, you should always be ready,” Joel agreed, sounding serious, and I scowled.

“I would like to remind you two you met only a few hours ago,” I said. “It’s too early for you to be ganging up on me.”

“He seems nervous, doesn’t he?” Joel asked my mom.

“He does. I wonder why?”

I rolled my eyes. This was way too much, way too fast. “And don’t talk about me in the third person when I’m sitting right here.”

“I think he needs more wine.” Mom grinned.

“I think he does. Let me fix it.” Joel took the bottle and filled my glass to the brim.

“What have I done…?” I sighed.

“You made the world a better place,” my mom said, and they both laughed. I tried to at least frown, but it was impossible. I couldn’t hold back my smile seeing Joel laugh with my wonderfully insane mother. “And while we’re talking about making the world better, Tyler, could you please bring these bowls into the kitchen? There’s chocolate cake in the fridge. We’ll need small plates and dessert forks.”

“Chocolate cake?” Joel’s eyebrows arched, and his face turned adorably boyish.

“Yes, my dear,” my mom confirmed, eyes bright with pleasure and mischief.

I shook my head and stood. I was helpless against those two. I collected as many of the dishes as I could carry and went to the kitchen, leaving the most beloved people in my life to laugh at my expense. Joel seemed happy. As long as my mom made him laugh, she could even pull out my baby albums, and I would take it with as much dignity as I could muster.

The kitchen was a mess. My mother was a brilliant cook, but she was no multitasker. Sighing deeply, I began gathering the vegetable skins from the counter. I filled the dishwasher, let the pans soak in the sink, and wiped the table.

Only then did I pull the cake out of the fridge and spent a useless five minutes looking for a suitable knife and those damned dessert forks. I arranged the small plates and cutlery so I could carry it all at once and walked carefully back to my mother’s living room.

I paused at the door.

Joel stood by the table, his back to me, bent and curled down low enough so he could fit into my mother’s ambitious embrace. She was petting his hair, soothing. Her eyes met mine over his shoulder, and she smiled a sad smile. I blinked and backed off noiselessly into the kitchen.

My mother was a witch. There was no other explanation.

I waited for five more minutes in the kitchen, pouring myself a shot of aged Port from my mother’s cupboard. Soon, I heard her cheerful laughter echo from the living room.

I went back, and this time, they were both sitting in their respective chairs, Joel’s eyes a little red and his smile sheepish. I cut the cake, pretending I didn’t know he had fallen victim to my mother’s emotional tinkering. But he seemed content, so I didn’t complain.

***

Both a little drunk, we left Joel’s car at my mother’s and took a taxi back to my place because it was closer. We would pick up the BMW in the morning and drive together back to his house. Joel was quiet in the taxi, his smile soft as I held his hand on the backseat between us. I caught the middle-aged driver’s curious eyes in the mirror, but he looked away quickly.

I followed Joel into the shower automatically; we never showered apart unless the other one was asleep. He washed my back and kissed my neck chastely before he turned away and lathered his hair. The lack of sexual energy was, surprisingly, a relief. He was calm and more…present.

“What did she say to you?” I asked. I couldn’t hold back anymore, my curiosity eating at me.

Joel started a little. “Your mom? Nothing much.” He shrugged and turned the water off.

He opened the shower stall, reached for a towel and handed it to me before he took his own. He tied the towel around his hips and leaned on the bathroom counter watching me as I rubbed my wet hair.

“She said she wouldn’t want her son with a man who didn’t hurt when his father died,” Joel explained in a quiet, steady voice, and I froze with the towel covering half of my face awkwardly. I let a few seconds pass, processing. I finished drying my hair and hung the towel back on the heat rack.

“That sounds like her,” I told him. Knowing my mother, much more had been said. But as long as I could see the calm and hope in Joel’s face, I was happy.

Pushing off the counter, he stepped closer and put his hand on my jaw, his thumb dragging through the short strands of beard on my chin.

“Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life. I was half-dead before.”

“Joel…”

“I’ll go to therapy.”

I nodded dumbly. It was a good idea, but I didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic. Joel still fought low self-worth and beat himself up for being what he considered weak. However, showing his feelings, admitting his flaws—that was some immense strength of character. And I thought Joel was beginning to understand that. I hugged him and held tight. As we stood there, his body grew heavier in my arms.

“You’re exhausted. Let’s go to bed,” I said.

He lifted his head from my shoulder and caressed my naked back. “I love sleeping with you. I used to hate waking up in the middle of the night because then it would take ages for me to fall asleep again. But when you’re next to me, I sleep like a log.”

“I love you,” I told him.

He smiled a serene smile and kissed me slowly so I could breathe him in before his mouth opened and his tongue touched mine.

I wanted to worship him.

In a crystal clear second, I realized I could do just that, every day. I nuzzled his face and kissed along his jaw. My fingers tangled in his wet hair, and when he leaned back to look at me, the love in his eyes made my own burn. I closed them and pressed my nose into the tender skin on his temple. I didn’t want to weep. I wanted to celebrate.