Page 33 of Strange Lad

We lapse into silence while I hover next to my bed. “Food?” I prompt, knowing that if anything will make him smile, that will.

But he shakes his head, rolling his face flat into the pillow. “I thought last night would go differently,” he says, his voice muffled.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs heavily, revealing his face again, but keeps his eyes downcast. “You said you needed me, Oli. And I stupidly thought—”

I wait for him to finish, heart racing.

“Thought what?” I whisper.

His hands clench before sliding under his head. “That you really did. But you were asleep when I got here.”

“I didn’t mean to make it seem more urgent than it was.” At the moment, it felt urgent, though. But I don’t say that. Can’t say that.

“So you didn’t need me, then?” he asks, voice small and timid. It's so unlike him that it hits me like a gunshot blast to the gut.

I shuffle closer, stopping at the foot of the bed. “I do,” I say through a swallow. “I did.”

Those brown eyes find mine, tiny flecks of gold standing out behind, forming tears. “What happens when you don’t? What then? Everyone always needs me until they don’t. Until they findthe person they want around all the time. Even Phoenix doesn’t want me around all the time, and he’s my other testicle.”

I think that was meant to be funny, but his voice has no humor. It’s raw, aching, and so honest that I feel guilty despite not knowing what for.

But he’s wrong about one thing. I’ve never not needed him.

I’ve waited years to be the center of his attention, and I’m not giving it up.

Do you trust him?My eyes flutter shut, asking myself the question over and over. I want to trust him. I want it so badly that I can feel myself clawing through my boundaries with bloodied fingers. Needing him inside it with me.

My legs tremble as I lower to the bed, sitting next to his damaged buttcheek. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t comment. I don’t necessarily enjoy being treated like a spooked wild animal, though it does help, especially when my bravery is minuscule at best. Abysmal at worst. I think I can be brave for him, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

“I will always need you,” I tell him gently, folding my hands in my lap.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Think you just gave my heart a seizure, Oli,” he says through a husky laugh. His eyes flutter in pleasure, savoring my admission. “Feels good to know that.”

“I mean it.”

His hand slithers from under the pillow and rests palm up between us. I stare at it. Sparks ignite in the tips of my fingers; the want damn near crippling me. I know what he wants andneeds, but can I do it? Can I still be brave?

It takes me too long to decide, so he starts to close his fist.

Another opportunity is gone. Another door closing.

My hand shoots out, and I hook my pinky finger through his.

Jorge lets out a breath, like he’d been holding it. Like he’s been waiting just as long for me as I have for him. “Thank you,” he whispers and smiles gently.

“Be patient with me?” It comes out like a beg.

Fuck it. Itisa beg.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Jorge

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