Page 102 of Rhymes with Metaphor
“Am I better in bed?”said Joel.
“Don’t compare yourself with him, Joel.”Reg took the sketch off the wall, removed it from its frame, and put it in a drawer in his office.Then he found his sketchbook and carefully removed a drawing he’d made of Joel posed in the rockery with a half-smile, looking at Reg with an expression of affection and tenderness.He fitted it into the frame and hung it in the place where the sketch of Flip had been.Joel watched him do all of this without saying a word.
They spent the rest of the evening unpacking and clearing out Reg’s study to make room for Joel’s new bed.The room was piled with papers, notes, and the detritus that had accumulated since Reg had moved in two years ago.Joel wanted to go through every single paper to figure out if it needed to be pitched or filed, but Reg told him to put everything in boxes, and he’d deal with it later.Their energy flagged as it grew dark, and they sprawled on the floor amidst the clutter.
“I can sort through all of this stuff for you,” said Joel.
“It’ll take hours.”Reg yawned.
“I’ve got time,” said Joel.“I want to be useful.”
“Try being ornamental for a while.You’ve a knack for it.”
“I don’t want to get used to not working.I don’t think I’d be happy without a job—a career—but I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll find your calling, given time, and whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”
“Don’t you need to study for your defence tomorrow?”
“I’ve been preparing all summer, cariad.Now, let’s christen your bedroom, sans bed as it is.”Reg unfastened Joel’s trousers, and went down on him.
Afterwards, Reg kissed him.“You did well, cariad.You didn’t go off too quickly.What element did you get to?”
“I finished the periodic table,” said Joel.“I’m using the stars in the constellation of Centaurus now.”
Reg squeezed Joel’s left nipple.
“I know.”Joel hugged him, then spoke quietly, shyly, into his shoulder.“Reg?”
“What is it, cariad?”
“Can I give you one?”
Reg laughed and ruffled Joel’s hair.“Not today.”
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The next day, Reg puton a suit for his defence and used mousse to get his hair into a semblance of respectability.He stood in front of the mirror.He wore his amber tiepin for luck.“How do I look?”
“Amazing,” said Joel.
“What?”said Reg.He’d gotten so accustomed to Martin saying the exact opposite whenever he asked.
“Fuckable.”Joel hugged Reg from behind and looked at him in the mirror.“Can I come?”
“No, cariad.The defence is closed to the public.Anyway, having you there would be terribly distracting.”
“How long will you be?”said Joel.
“Three hours?There’s the defence, then the examination committee will want to take me out for a congratulatory meal and a drink afterwards—as long as I don’t botch the job.”
“I’ll organize your study while you’re gone,” said Joel.
“Why don’t you enjoy yourself instead?Relax.Go for a walk.Go out to a café.”Reg gently extricated himself from Joel’s embrace.“When I get home, we can do whatever you like.”
“Good luck,” said Joel.
There was that feeling of leaving for war again, and Reg realized he and Joel had only been apart for a few hours all summer.It left him unsettled, not least because the last time Reg had left him alone, Joel had gotten his ear pierced.
