14. James
14
JAMES
Call me spoiled, because I can’t sleep unless it’s pitch black. Even though this apartment faces west, the sunrise still manages to creep in, and I’m wide awake. We’re right at the end of May and the sun already rises at 5 a.m. Ethan didn’t want to put blackout blinds on all the windows, so my room is the only one that has them.
I blink, trying to get my bearings. Huh. I’m in Ethan’s room, so I must have fallen asleep here.
That explains the blinding light streaming in at this ungodly hour. Groaning, I try to pull myself away to go back to my dark room to catch some more sleep, but I’m trapped.
Ethan is lying on my left arm, pinning it to the bed, and I’m draping my right arm over his waist.
We’re cuddling.
My eyes open wider with the realization, and then I laugh. Big brawny Ethan is being little spooned by me. I’m sure this looks ridiculous, but it’s funny.
He’s so peaceful. His hair is a mess, and I can see the edges of a massive smile pulling his cheeks up. I don’t know what possesses me, maybe it’s instinct or muscle memory, but I draw myself closer. He lets out a soft sigh and snuggles closer to me, my chin fitting behind his neck perfectly.
His t-shirt is super soft. I don’t know where he buys his shirts, but I need to ask him so I can get fifty of them. I trace his shoulder and let myself get enthralled by the fuzzy fabric.
This is kinda adorable, not gonna lie. Two bros who can cuddle without it being awkward. Ethan shows all the signs of being my buddy and none of being attracted to me. Growing up, I always judged people who were so afraid of being crushed on by their gay friends. I’m friends with a few women who are super attractive, but am I attracted to them? No. We’re friends. I can keep my dick in my pants, and I know Ethan’s capable of the same.
Besides, being close to someone like this is awesome. There aren’t any expectations or anything, just a bit of human contact. I’m a little more tactile than most guys, but hey, I like what I like, and I crave this kind of casual closeness.
Ethan jerks, and I think that’s a sign he’s woken up. I know he can feel that I’m here, but his eyes widen as soon as he actually sees me.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I sing.
Ethan closes his eyes and returns my greeting through what sounds like gritted teeth.
Okay, he’s grouchy this morning. Shit. Maybe I woke him up and he’s tired. But he was smiling a few seconds ago. What happened?
He doesn’t say anything more, but he jolts upright like someone slipped a snowball under his ass.
“What’s up?” I ask, sitting up as well. “You okay?”
Ethan nods, but it’s not convincing. “Yeah, I just need to get ready for the day,” he mumbles, standing up and stretching.
“Did I do something?” The words come out before I can stop them.
He freezes and turns back toward me. “No, it’s not you. I just didn’t sleep well.”
I’m more awake now, and I can tell that’s a lie. He slept like a baby. Nobody who slept badly wakes up with a beaming smile like the one he had this morning. Something’s bothering him.
“Ethan, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m fine. I just need to take a leak and get some actual sleep.”
Then he abruptly spins around and beelines to his bathroom, leaving me lying in his bed, confused as hell. How did Ethan go from literally sleeping in my arms to darting out of the room, seemingly to avoid me?
Something downstairs beeps, jolting me out of my thoughts and out of the bed. I almost bump into Ethan on the way out, and he shuffles past me with a glass of water, not saying a single word.
He doesn’t emerge from his room for hours. Not that I’m listening , but the house is silent. I mostly stay in my room, but I don’t hear any footsteps, doors, or signs of life. Ethan’s in a mood, and I have no idea why. I make myself a basic breakfast and replay the morning in my head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Coming up with nothing, I decide to take a nap because that’s the only thing I want to do right now.
A few hours later, I wake up and the house is still eerily quiet. I peek out of my room, and it’s like I live alone. Ethan’s door is still closed, and when I go to the kitchen for water, the only dishes in the sink are the ones I put there after breakfast.
Hurt fills my stomach. He’s clearly down, and all I want is for him to feel better. Sure, most people would say that Ethan is quiet and doesn’t necessarily radiate happiness or fart sunshine out his ass, but I like being around him. He’s the best kind of person.
Even though he’s down, he still has to eat. That’s how I find myself knocking on his door seconds later, which gets me a confused grunt in reply. That’s something, at least.
“Hey, Ethan,” I call out. “Did you eat today?”
Silence. I wait, and there’s shuffling and footsteps before Ethan opens the door. He’s tired, but his cheeks have a slight flush to them that give him a rejuvenated glow.
“How about we grab some dinner soon? My treat,” I suggest, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.
Ethan rubs his eyes. “Yeah, I’m down to grab food. You don’t have to pay though.”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it. Let me take you on a bro date. There’s this Sichuan restaurant down the street from us that I’ve been desperate to check out.”
Ethan hesitates, but then he nods. “Alright, let’s do it.” He smiles, and a flicker of life flashes in his eyes. “Thanks, James. I appreciate it.”
I smile back. “No problem, man. Anything to help you out.”
Right as I’m about to turn around and get ready, Ethan steps forward and wraps me in a hug. “You’re an amazing friend, James. Thanks for looking out for me.”
His words land harder than they probably should. My chest tightens and I don’t even know what to do with the weird swirl of emotions coursing through me.
“Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?” I say.
He nods and then turns around, heading into his bathroom to get ready. I stand outside his door for a few seconds, overthinking everything.
That wasn’t typical Ethan. There’s something else going on.
I force myself to snap out of it because I need to focus on making tonight fun for Ethan. No matter what’s going on in his head, we’ll figure it out.
As promised, I take Ethan to that Sichuan restaurant down the street. It’s a casual spot, nothing too fancy, but a mix of deliciously spicy air wafts around the restaurant. We find a table near the back, and Ethan scrutinizes the menu that’s taped to the wall next to our table.
“You ever had Sichuan food before?” I ask, leaning in a bit.
He shakes his head, a small smile crossing his lips. “Nope. This is a first for me.”
“You’re in for a treat,” I say, grinning. “I used to eat at places like this with my family all the time. This food is gonna be life changing.”
“Life changing, huh? Bring it on.”
Two small bowls of Suan La Fen, potato noodles in spicy broth, arrive first. Growing up, this dish is basically what helped me build my spice tolerance, and I can’t get enough.
Ethan picks up his chopsticks and eyes his bowl before picking up a mouthful. I watch as he takes his first bite, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Wow,” he says, his voice filled with genuine amazement. “This is incredible. I didn’t know half of these flavors even existed.”
“Told you so. It’s life changing.”
He nods, taking another eager bite. “I can see that. This is… wow.”
The rest of our order comes out and the tension melts away from Ethan with each successive bite. By the time we finish up, he’s laughing and chatting easily, and that sad glaze in his eyes is nowhere to be seen.
“This was a great idea,” Ethan says, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Anytime, man.” A small grin tugs at the corner of my mouth as Ethan’s face lights up. Seeing Ethan happy makes me happy.
I settle up and we walk back to our apartment, falling into a comfortable silence. In the elevator, the quiet whirring of the machinery fills the space as we ascend, and Ethan leans against the wall, his eyes soft and relaxed. This is the Ethan I know. He’s the guy who keeps his cool no matter what, but who, deep down, needs a little extra support sometimes, just like everyone else.
When we reach our apartment, we both step out, walking side by side through our front door.
“Thanks again, James. I needed this,” he says, walking toward the stairs.
“For sure. Now get some rest. We’ve got a tough game tomorrow.”