The time it takes for us to get from school to home is the same as always, possibly even less since Garen seems to be speeding more than usual. It feels like it takes hours though, and by the time we clear the front door, I am shaking all over. Garen calls out for our parents once, twice, and then pulls me towards him, nearly crushing me in his arms.
“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you said yes,” he whispers against the top of my head. My whole body feels limp, like I’m made of clay, and when he backs me up against the wall, I let him hold me there, ground me.
“I can’t believe I said yes either. How did we get here?” I ask. “We met three months ago, back when I still thought I was straight, and since then, we’ve become like, this… help me out. What have we become?”
He touches his forehead to mine and raises one of his hands to my face, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. “We’ve become a force of nature.”
I cannot believe that this man is in love with me. That this is the person I will kiss, fuck, love, be with for the rest of my life. I push away from the wall and back towards the stairs, my eyes still on Garen’s face. I never want to look anywhere else.
“Come on. I wanna go up to your room,” I say. He nods and follows me. My legs still feel like jelly, but at the top of the stairs, he hooks an arm around my waist, somewhat supporting me until we reach his room. He flicks on the lights and goes about his usual routine, dropping his backpack by the desk, hanging his jacket on the hook on his closet door. I kick off my shoes and crawl into his bed under the covers.
“How was track practice?” he asks. I yawn.
“Long. But good. It’s been a while, and I missed it,” I say, and I stretch a hand out towards him. “Come here.”
He pauses near his dresser to toe off his sneakers and empty his pockets of phone, wallet, and keys, then joins me under the covers. I pull him onto me, and he kisses me softly, barely more than a slight brush of his lips to mine. I thread my fingers into the soft spikes of his hair as his mouth travels down my throat. As he presses a gentle kiss to my collarbone, I attempt to stifle another yawn. He looks up.
“Travis?” he says. I shake my head quickly.
“It’s fine, it’s nothing. Keep going,” I say, and he laughs and rolls off me.
“You’re about to pass out. Have you been sleeping okay?” he asks. I shake my head once more and stretch.
“I started a new kind of medication last week, and it’s been fucking with me a little. I can’t sleep at night, and it’s all I wanna do during the day. I’m fine. Just a little tired,” I say. He gestures for me to sit up, and when I do, he removes my belt and sweatshirt. I lean down to kiss him, but he shakes his head.
“No, not for that. Go to sleep,” he says. I frown. “Really, Travis. You need it, and it’s fine, I really don’t mind. I can do my homework or something.” He shifts towards the edge of the bed, but I grab his shoulder.
“Can you stay instead? Please?” I say. He nods and rolls onto his side to face me. I settle back down into bed, my back pressed against his chest, and he kisses the back of my neck.
“I love you, T,” he says.
“Love you too,” I mumble. Within minutes, I am asleep, locked in his arms, his heartbeat steady against my back.
The next time I open my eyes, the room is completely dark and Garen is gone. I wait for my eyes to adjust, but before they can, the door opens.
“Garen?” Mom whispers. I freeze. Fuck. “Garen, honey.”
The blankets are still drawn up to my shoulders, hiding the differences between my build and Garen’s. But my skin isn’t pale enough, my hair’s all wrong, and if the lights come on… She closes the door, and I hear her open mine across the hall. What will she do when she finds my empty bed? Will she bolt back here to question Garen and find me here instead?
“Travis,” she says. I sit up, tensed, waiting. But there is no explosion of terror in her voice. There is simply a sigh, and then the sound of her retreating to her and Bill’s room down the hall. A few seconds later, the door opens again, just as I’m lying back down. Garen heads for his dresser without looking at me. When he turns away, I realize he’s wearing my sweatshirt, a hoodie with LHS Track Team printed on the back. He strips off the hoodie, as well as his own shirt and jeans, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. He arches his back and yawns, then joins me in the bed again. I immediately wrap my arms around him and settle into the crook of his arm. He kisses my forehead.
“Didn’t realize you were awake,” he says.
“Yeah, just got up. Where were you?” I ask.
“Your room. I heard the parents get in about ten minutes ago, so I borrowed your sweatshirt and went to go take your place. The same way you took mine, I imagine,” he says.
“Sneaky,” I say, yawning.
“You really should talk to your doctor, if you’re still tired. You just slept for eight hours.”
I twist to look at the clock. “Shit.”
“It’s fine. Not like you had anything else to do. It was your night off, remember? Just go back to sleep,” he murmurs. I sigh.
“Fine. I should go back to my room, though,” I say. He nods. “Night.” I shift so I’m on top of him and kiss him. One of my hands is braced on the bed, and the other is flattened on his bare chest. Within thirty seconds, he’s hard against my leg. The hand on his chest trails lazily down his body and begins to rub him through his sweatpants. He grabs my wrist.
“Thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.
“I thought I was too. Guess I got distracted,” I say. I lean back and he tugs my t-shirt over my head. As he reaches for the zipper on my jeans, I slip a hand into his boxers. The hand at my jeans begins to shake violently, and I pause.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and he nods, eyes closed.
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I just… it’s been a few weeks. I’d forgotten how much you affect me,” he says.
“As opposed to the twenty-three other guys before me?” The words are out before I realize how insanely stupid they are. Garen blinks at me. My face feels hot, but those aren’t the type of words you can take back. So instead, I can only wait.
“You’re… you’re different. There’s a big distinction between sex with someone you barely know and sex with someone you barely know how to live without. And in case you haven’t noticed… I’m engaged to you. Not any of them,” he says. He reaches down and pulls my hand out of his sweatpants. “If you’ve got a problem with what I’ve done, then we have to talk about it.”
“Twenty-three guys, Garen? I’ve been with you, and that’s it. You’ve been with twenty-three other guys,” I say. From then on, my mouth is running independently from my brain. “How am I supposed to compare to all them? I was just this pathetic little virgin, and I doubt all of them were. Some of them must have had experience, and I’ve got none, and then, you know, you have to consider the fact that a lot of them were guys from your military school, and like… how many push-ups can you do in a row?” I demand. His brows are crinkled together, as if he’s trying very hard to see my point.
“I don’t know. Sixty-ish before I start to get tired?” he says.
“See? I have track practice three days a week, sometimes more, and I can still only do half that,” I say.
“I don’t— I don’t get where this is going, Travis.”
“Tell me the truth. Were all your friends at Patton built like you? Six feet or taller, with perfect hard bodies and about two thousand extra bulging muscles?”
“No. Well, I mean, we all had to keep in shape, with all the workouts they made us do, so yeah, I guess some of them were built like me, but not all of them,” he says. I sigh and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Garen. In the past three years, you’ve fucked twenty-three hot, experienced guys. And in the past three years, I’ve… let’s see. Made the honor roll at school. Attempted suicide. Worked. That’s pretty much it,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter. Fuck. It’s not like I asked you to submit a résumé and list of references before I’d be your boyfriend. I wanna be with you for you, not for what you have or haven’t done. That doesn’t matter to me. And I… I think you should treat me the same way. I think you should realize that what who I’ve been doesn’t matter as much as who you make me want to be,” he says.
“I don’t… I’m scared, okay? I want to be good enough, and I’m not. I know I’m not. I don’t measure up,” I say. Garen’s eyes, of course, flicker down my frame.
“I think you measure up really well,” he says. I shove him off the bed, and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, peering over the edge of the bed at me.
“You’re an ass, you know that?” I say.
“I was giving you a compliment! And it’s true! I could go get a ruler, if you—”
“Garen!”
He sobers immediately. “Please don’t worry? You’re the one I’m with. The only one I really want. Ever. So of course you measure up. You’re what everyone else was supposed to be measured against,” he says. We look at each other in silence for several minutes, both waiting for the other to speak. Finally, I roll out of bed and head for his dresser to dig in the top drawer for another pair of sweatpants. I find a pair of blue drawstring ones that ride low on my hips and pool around my feet.
“I wanna stay here tonight,” I say. “I can set the alarm so I wake up in time to get back to my room before Mom or Bill get up. I just wanna be with you tonight. If you want me to.”
“Of course,” Garen says. “I want you to be with me every night.”
I crawl back into bed, and he gets up off the floor to join me. We settle under the covers together, face to face, and when my eyes finally drift shut, he draws me closer and kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight, Travis.”
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“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you said yes,” he whispers against the top of my head. My whole body feels limp, like I’m made of clay, and when he backs me up against the wall, I let him hold me there, ground me.
“I can’t believe I said yes either. How did we get here?” I ask. “We met three months ago, back when I still thought I was straight, and since then, we’ve become like, this… help me out. What have we become?”
He touches his forehead to mine and raises one of his hands to my face, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. “We’ve become a force of nature.”
I cannot believe that this man is in love with me. That this is the person I will kiss, fuck, love, be with for the rest of my life. I push away from the wall and back towards the stairs, my eyes still on Garen’s face. I never want to look anywhere else.
“Come on. I wanna go up to your room,” I say. He nods and follows me. My legs still feel like jelly, but at the top of the stairs, he hooks an arm around my waist, somewhat supporting me until we reach his room. He flicks on the lights and goes about his usual routine, dropping his backpack by the desk, hanging his jacket on the hook on his closet door. I kick off my shoes and crawl into his bed under the covers.
“How was track practice?” he asks. I yawn.
“Long. But good. It’s been a while, and I missed it,” I say, and I stretch a hand out towards him. “Come here.”
He pauses near his dresser to toe off his sneakers and empty his pockets of phone, wallet, and keys, then joins me under the covers. I pull him onto me, and he kisses me softly, barely more than a slight brush of his lips to mine. I thread my fingers into the soft spikes of his hair as his mouth travels down my throat. As he presses a gentle kiss to my collarbone, I attempt to stifle another yawn. He looks up.
“Travis?” he says. I shake my head quickly.
“It’s fine, it’s nothing. Keep going,” I say, and he laughs and rolls off me.
“You’re about to pass out. Have you been sleeping okay?” he asks. I shake my head once more and stretch.
“I started a new kind of medication last week, and it’s been fucking with me a little. I can’t sleep at night, and it’s all I wanna do during the day. I’m fine. Just a little tired,” I say. He gestures for me to sit up, and when I do, he removes my belt and sweatshirt. I lean down to kiss him, but he shakes his head.
“No, not for that. Go to sleep,” he says. I frown. “Really, Travis. You need it, and it’s fine, I really don’t mind. I can do my homework or something.” He shifts towards the edge of the bed, but I grab his shoulder.
“Can you stay instead? Please?” I say. He nods and rolls onto his side to face me. I settle back down into bed, my back pressed against his chest, and he kisses the back of my neck.
“I love you, T,” he says.
“Love you too,” I mumble. Within minutes, I am asleep, locked in his arms, his heartbeat steady against my back.
The next time I open my eyes, the room is completely dark and Garen is gone. I wait for my eyes to adjust, but before they can, the door opens.
“Garen?” Mom whispers. I freeze. Fuck. “Garen, honey.”
The blankets are still drawn up to my shoulders, hiding the differences between my build and Garen’s. But my skin isn’t pale enough, my hair’s all wrong, and if the lights come on… She closes the door, and I hear her open mine across the hall. What will she do when she finds my empty bed? Will she bolt back here to question Garen and find me here instead?
“Travis,” she says. I sit up, tensed, waiting. But there is no explosion of terror in her voice. There is simply a sigh, and then the sound of her retreating to her and Bill’s room down the hall. A few seconds later, the door opens again, just as I’m lying back down. Garen heads for his dresser without looking at me. When he turns away, I realize he’s wearing my sweatshirt, a hoodie with LHS Track Team printed on the back. He strips off the hoodie, as well as his own shirt and jeans, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. He arches his back and yawns, then joins me in the bed again. I immediately wrap my arms around him and settle into the crook of his arm. He kisses my forehead.
“Didn’t realize you were awake,” he says.
“Yeah, just got up. Where were you?” I ask.
“Your room. I heard the parents get in about ten minutes ago, so I borrowed your sweatshirt and went to go take your place. The same way you took mine, I imagine,” he says.
“Sneaky,” I say, yawning.
“You really should talk to your doctor, if you’re still tired. You just slept for eight hours.”
I twist to look at the clock. “Shit.”
“It’s fine. Not like you had anything else to do. It was your night off, remember? Just go back to sleep,” he murmurs. I sigh.
“Fine. I should go back to my room, though,” I say. He nods. “Night.” I shift so I’m on top of him and kiss him. One of my hands is braced on the bed, and the other is flattened on his bare chest. Within thirty seconds, he’s hard against my leg. The hand on his chest trails lazily down his body and begins to rub him through his sweatpants. He grabs my wrist.
“Thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.
“I thought I was too. Guess I got distracted,” I say. I lean back and he tugs my t-shirt over my head. As he reaches for the zipper on my jeans, I slip a hand into his boxers. The hand at my jeans begins to shake violently, and I pause.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and he nods, eyes closed.
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I just… it’s been a few weeks. I’d forgotten how much you affect me,” he says.
“As opposed to the twenty-three other guys before me?” The words are out before I realize how insanely stupid they are. Garen blinks at me. My face feels hot, but those aren’t the type of words you can take back. So instead, I can only wait.
“You’re… you’re different. There’s a big distinction between sex with someone you barely know and sex with someone you barely know how to live without. And in case you haven’t noticed… I’m engaged to you. Not any of them,” he says. He reaches down and pulls my hand out of his sweatpants. “If you’ve got a problem with what I’ve done, then we have to talk about it.”
“Twenty-three guys, Garen? I’ve been with you, and that’s it. You’ve been with twenty-three other guys,” I say. From then on, my mouth is running independently from my brain. “How am I supposed to compare to all them? I was just this pathetic little virgin, and I doubt all of them were. Some of them must have had experience, and I’ve got none, and then, you know, you have to consider the fact that a lot of them were guys from your military school, and like… how many push-ups can you do in a row?” I demand. His brows are crinkled together, as if he’s trying very hard to see my point.
“I don’t know. Sixty-ish before I start to get tired?” he says.
“See? I have track practice three days a week, sometimes more, and I can still only do half that,” I say.
“I don’t— I don’t get where this is going, Travis.”
“Tell me the truth. Were all your friends at Patton built like you? Six feet or taller, with perfect hard bodies and about two thousand extra bulging muscles?”
“No. Well, I mean, we all had to keep in shape, with all the workouts they made us do, so yeah, I guess some of them were built like me, but not all of them,” he says. I sigh and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Garen. In the past three years, you’ve fucked twenty-three hot, experienced guys. And in the past three years, I’ve… let’s see. Made the honor roll at school. Attempted suicide. Worked. That’s pretty much it,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter. Fuck. It’s not like I asked you to submit a résumé and list of references before I’d be your boyfriend. I wanna be with you for you, not for what you have or haven’t done. That doesn’t matter to me. And I… I think you should treat me the same way. I think you should realize that what who I’ve been doesn’t matter as much as who you make me want to be,” he says.
“I don’t… I’m scared, okay? I want to be good enough, and I’m not. I know I’m not. I don’t measure up,” I say. Garen’s eyes, of course, flicker down my frame.
“I think you measure up really well,” he says. I shove him off the bed, and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, peering over the edge of the bed at me.
“You’re an ass, you know that?” I say.
“I was giving you a compliment! And it’s true! I could go get a ruler, if you—”
“Garen!”
He sobers immediately. “Please don’t worry? You’re the one I’m with. The only one I really want. Ever. So of course you measure up. You’re what everyone else was supposed to be measured against,” he says. We look at each other in silence for several minutes, both waiting for the other to speak. Finally, I roll out of bed and head for his dresser to dig in the top drawer for another pair of sweatpants. I find a pair of blue drawstring ones that ride low on my hips and pool around my feet.
“I wanna stay here tonight,” I say. “I can set the alarm so I wake up in time to get back to my room before Mom or Bill get up. I just wanna be with you tonight. If you want me to.”
“Of course,” Garen says. “I want you to be with me every night.”
I crawl back into bed, and he gets up off the floor to join me. We settle under the covers together, face to face, and when my eyes finally drift shut, he draws me closer and kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight, Travis.”
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