Page 72 of Twice Shy

With a soft huff of laughter Joel’s arm came around him, and Ollie groaned in relief. This was what he’d needed all afternoon: simple human comfort. A hug. “I wanted to do this earlier,” Joel said into his ear. “You looked like you needed it.”

“I did.” He slipped both arms around Joel’s waist, smiling as Joel tightened his hold on him. “I wish you had.”

Joel squeezed. “I’m sorry. I was an asshole this afternoon. It’s just so difficult to— But that poster boy crack was stupid. And offensive. I’m sorry. I wish…” Whatever he wished, the thought trailed off into a sigh as he brushed a kiss against Ollie’s ear instead. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

As he led Joel upstairs, Ollie remembered with a blush the mess in the apartment—especially the unmade bed which dominated the living room. “I wasn’t really on top of things this morning,” he explained, picking up the load of kids’ laundry from the floor and hugging it for want of anything better to do. “Luis was up from about two.”

“Then you’re a damn hero making it through the day. And, trust me, this insomniac knows what he’s talking about.”

Ollie found a smile. “Well, I was hardly parent of the year today. They only had fish sticks and fries for dinner. Not even a vegetable.”

“So? You took them to see Santa. I know what they’re going to remember ten years from now, and it’s not the fish sticks.” Joel glanced around, set the food on the dining table, and said, “Now sit down.” He reached for the laundry. “I’ll do this.”

“What? No you don’t need to…”

“I can do a load of laundry,” he said, raising an amused eyebrow. “I can tie my own shoelaces too, you know.”

Ollie laughed and relinquished the clothes, taking the opportunity to pick up the kids’ dinner plates from the floor in front of the TV and setting them in the sink while Joel fetched detergent and the laundry room key.

“You don’t stop, do you?” Joel said. “Go. Sit. Rest, for crying out loud. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Ollie huffed and sat down. Fact was, if he didn’t pick up around the apartment nobody did, so whether he did it now or later didn’t really matter; it was all him. But this evening, there was someone else. And it felt…nice. Not something to get used to, of course. But… It felt good to have help, even just a little.

They ate without much conversation once Joel got back, but it didn’t feel awkward. The food gave Ollie an energy boost but without the adrenaline that had kept him on his feet all day he felt drowsy. It was a good feeling, better than the wound-up exhaustion of earlier. He felt like he could sleep, if Luis gave him the chance.

But so far so good. The little guy had worn himself out, and Ollie had taken Alyssa’s advice and dosed him with baby Tylenol before bed—the ‘good stuff’ he and Rory called it when he squirted it into his mouth when he had a fever. He smiled at the memory and the strange warmth he always felt caring for the kids when they had coughs and colds. Was that weird? Maybe. Or maybe—

“Ollie?” A gentle hand on his arm. “Hey.”

He jolted upright. “Hmm…?”

Joel smiled. “You’re about to fall asleep in yourTom Kha Kai.”

“Shit.” He tried to focus. “Sorry. I did warn you.”

“You did.” Joel rubbed his arm. “Why don’t you get ready for bed? I’ll clear up.”

“I can’t let you do that…”

“Why not?”

Ollie blinked. His eyes were full of sand and his brain wasn’t working right; he couldn’t think why not. “I can manage,” he said in the end, his default answer.

“Sure,” Joel said, getting to his feet and collecting Ollie’s bowl. “But right now, you don’t have to.”

Looking up at him, Ollie felt a ridiculous lump rise into his throat and his prickly eyes filled with overtired tears. He didn’t know what to say. Joel looked at him, a lot going on in his eyes but much of it indecipherable. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ollie’s forehead. “Go brush your teeth, I’ve got this.”

He did, and Ollie would be a fool to look a gift horse in the mouth. He bumbled his way zombie-like into the bathroom and stared at himself while he brushed his teeth. The stark bathroom light accentuated the shadows under his eyes, or at least he hoped it did. His hair badly needed a cut. It looked like a mop. When he was done, face and teeth clean, he trudged back into the living room and his heart did a little tap-dance at the sight of his bed straightened up, duvet turned back invitingly, pillows plumped and the table lamp on while the overhead lights had been switched off.

Damn, but Joel must have made a good husband.

A glance over his shoulder showed a glimpse of him in the kitchen, humming to himself as he tidied and cleaned up. Ollie wondered if he’d fallen down a rabbit hole into a dreamland of domestic bliss. How easy his life would be with someone else around, a pair of hands to help, a pair of arms to hold and comfort.

But only in private, he reminded himself as he stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed. Joel wouldn’t hold or comfort him anywhere people could see, and Ollie would do well to remember that before he got too carried away with this game of happy families.

With aching relief, he sank into the pillows, sleep a pair of heavy wings closing over him. But he resisted their pull, wanting to enjoy the peace for a few moments longer. The quiet sounds from the kitchen comforted him, and he watched beneath heavy lids as Joel eventually returned to the living room. Rolling onto his back to prove he was still awake, he said, “Hey,” and lifted an arm in invitation. After a brief struggle, Joel came to sit next to him on the bed. “Thanks,” Ollie said, taking Joel’s hand.

---