Chapter 10 In-between
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In-between
This time, it had been enough. It had driven away the demons and smothered the dreams. Why couldn’t it be like this every night?
Leaf draped his heavy arm over his face to shield himself from the sun and enjoyed the silence for a while.
But suddenly, the sound of a rumble broke the stillness, and it dawned on him that he wasn’t home. He abruptly shot up and looked around.
Fuck!
He had fallen asleep on the leather sofa in Nathan’s basement.
Sunlight streamed in through a row of upper windows.
A wooden lattice stood in front of them, adorned with a few climbing plants whose shadows swayed lightly on the opposite wall in the wind.
But more than enough light entered the hobby room, which Nathan used half of the space as storage for his photography equipment.
In the corner were lamps, and several cardboard rolls were stacked against the wall.
Shit! I was supposed to stop by Tristan’s.
Leaf swiftly rubbed his face to wake himself up and tied his hair back.
After gathering his belongings, he trudged up the stairs, his limbs feeling leaden.
The smell of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen, and to his left, the front door was open.
Leaf stepped out onto the porch and lit a cigarette.
Across the street, Nathan was walking with his Bull Terrier.
The dog tugged wildly on the leash and barked at a tree, while Nathan, unfazed, scrolled through his phone.
Shortly after, he limped across the street, speaking to the dog to calm it down.
Just then, a car pulled up, and his neighbor got out.
“Hi, Nathan, how’s it going?”
“Hello, Jeff, good, thanks, and you? Done with work already?”
“Linda has her exams today, so I took the day off,” he explained, opening the tailgate of his pickup truck and retrieving a toolbox. “Check this out. Just stocked up on new tools. Special offer.”
“Nice! What do you plan to do with it?”
When Nathan stepped aside and revealed the contents of the box, Leaf felt like fireworks exploded in his head.
“Pick one!”
Leaf stood paralyzed in front of the garage wall, where the wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, and drill bits hung. In the cool light of the fluorescent tube, they gleamed like precious jewels.
“I said, pick one!” his father yelled. “You have a mouth, so use it, damn it!”
Leaf flinched, trembling with fear all over his body, yet he spread his hands and gestured, “I don’t want to.” Ultimately, it didn’t matter which piece he chose. Each one hurt. Then his father grabbed him by the neck.
“No sign language! I want to hear your voice!”
Leaf tried to break free, outstretched his hand, and tapped his chin twice with his thumb.
“No! Mom’s not coming back! Now open your mouth already!”
He silently called out for his mother again as his father grabbed a wrench and dragged him to the workbench. With a firm grip, his father pinned down his arm and struck his right hand with full force.
Leaf screamed and curled up in pain, while his right arm held tightly like in a vise.
Another blow followed.
And another.
The sight blurred behind hot tears, and his own screams rang in his ears.
“Mom is dead! You will never use that language again! Got it!”
Leaf pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.
Fuck, focus.
When he glanced around again, he gazed at the house across the street.
You’re here. In Venice. The ocean is just a few streets away. The damn Pacific.
With trembling hands, he brought the cigarette to his mouth and took a deep drag. As he exhaled the smoke, he massaged his forehead. He was already sweating, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet.
“Leaf! Good morning!” Nathan greeted him, restraining the barking dog to a side post of the porch. “Come here, Daisy. My goodness! A squirrel and she goes completely nuts.”
Once the dog was tied up, Nathan climbed the steps to the porch. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks, I …” The barking completely threw him off.
“Daisy! For heaven’s sake!” Nathan hissed over the railing.
Finally, the dog calmed down, and some semblance of order returned to Leaf’s mind.
“I gotta go. We have band practice.”
Leaf stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the windowsill and patted his pockets, prompting Nathan to go inside and return with his car keys.
“Here you go. I’ll probably head to Gaucho later today. Got a few things to do in the studio. Maybe we’ll see each other.”
Leaf pocketed the keys and nodded. They fist bumped, bidding each other farewell. As soon as Leaf descended the stairs, the dog barked again.
“Daisy! Enough now!” Nathan called out irritably.
Leaf felt a surge of relief knowing the dog was on a leash. As he closed the car door behind him and started the engine, the barking finally ceased, and clarity replaced the fog in his head.
Even though band practice wasn’t until the afternoon, and he didn’t have to be at the Gaucho until two, he knew that if he stayed at Nathan’s now, he’d likely end up spending the night.
He knew he needed to head home, shower, and change out of his sweaty clothes; that was his commitment to the band and their fans.
He drove back downtown, heading toward Echo Park and Elysian Heights, and reached his home by half past nine. As he passed by Milo’s Chevelle, he glanced up at the terrace. The front door was closed.
Is Tris even home?
But he had to be. José had brought him home yesterday. If he wasn’t here, the Chevelle wouldn’t be either. From what he heard, Tristan’s Chevy was junk.
Leaf drove a bit further down the street and parked the car under two trees. As he got out, he tucked the envelope with the drugs into his back pocket and grabbed his jacket. Then he walked down the wooden jetty into the little woods.
His cabin was the first on the left side. The main entrance would actually be from the street, but he always locked that door. He climbed the wooden stairs to the balcony and stopped halfway when he saw Tristan.
With his legs tucked to his chest, he leaned against the patio door, his head resting sideways on the frame, and slept.
The empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s next to him suggested that he had knocked himself out—which wasn’t like him.
He didn’t need much to reach that point, given Tristan wasn’t a seasoned drinker.
And of course, he comes here.
That wasn’t anything new. Tristan had trouble being all by himself. Sometimes he believed he should be alone, but ultimately, he always sought company. Leaf climbed the last steps and squatted down in front of him, set the bottle aside, and observed his friend.
Coal-black curls fell into his forehead. His face appeared more angular than it actually was. His full lips were only slightly parted, and his expression was relaxed.
Leaf had always thought Tristan was beautiful, even though he looked like an average guy at first glance.
Before Leaf knew about his indigenous heritage, he had assumed him to be half-Filipino.
Tristan was tall and wiry. When he entered a room, he drew everyone’s attention.
Maybe it was the way he moved, or his soft voice.
Maybe it was the longing in his eyes, or the mischief that had unfortunately rarely surfaced lately.
The sun was already shining through the leaves, dancing on his black shirt. The blue jeans were torn at both knees, revealing the skin.
Is he still wearing the clothes from Vegas?
A smile crept onto Leaf’s lips. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Tristan had taken scissors to the clothes to adapt them to his style.
He lovingly stroked Tristan’s temple, letting a black strand curl around his index finger. Tristan made a sleepy sound, prompting Leaf to unlock the door above his head.
He has a key, why didn’t he just go inside?
He took Tristan’s arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet.
“Up you go.”
Tristan’s strong scent mixed with alcohol reached his nose.
“Leaf?” he mumbled against his shoulder as he stumbled into the apartment beside him.
“I’m here.”
Leaving the door open, he led Tristan through the bedroom into the bathroom, pulled aside the shower curtain, and positioned his beloved with his back against the wall. As he stepped back, Tristan had already slipped his fingers into his waistband and drew him closer.
“Don’t go,” he said in a barely audible voice, with his eyes closed. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“You’re not.” Leaf's voice was gentle as he approached, softly stroking Tristan's cheek.
“But you weren’t here.”
Tristan weakly held onto him and rested his forehead against his chin. Leaf was only a couple of inches taller, but Tristan could barely stand and kept sinking lower. Before he collapsed, Leaf tightened his arms around him.
Being close to him felt intoxicating, like a forbidden drug. Leaf had denied himself this for so long, convinced he didn’t deserve Tristan’s love. He was partly to blame for the whole disaster. For Milo’s death.
At that moment, Tristan slipped a hand into his neck and kissed him.
Gentle, tender, like a breeze. Then he rested his forehead against Leaf’s and pulled him closer with his other hand.
Their bodies pressed together, radiating warmth.
Tristan’s breath on his lips caused him to shudder.
Finally, Tristan opened his eyes and met his gaze.
Dark. Sad. Lonely.
“Why didn’t you come?”
“I’m sorry.” Leaf bowed his head in remorse. “I’m really sorry, I …”
“I know things aren’t the same as before.” Tristan got the words out slowly, one by one. “But … We … We can at least try.”
The words were like knives in Leaf’s heart. He would try anything for him, if only Tristan knew what he had done.
Tristan held him tight, as if he never wanted to let go.
Leaf couldn’t resist—as much as he wanted to.
Since Tristan had shown him this side for the first time, it had triggered in him this need to protect him.
He gently caressed his black locks, breathing its familiar scent.
The moment felt perfectly safe and intimate.
Eventually, Tristan slid his hands under his shirt and touched his skin.
Kissed his neck and sought his mouth. A tingling sensation ran down Leaf’s spine, and he tilted his head back.
Lust and desire surged within him. Just before their lips met, he turned on the shower by accident and the water cascaded down on them.
Lip to lip, they laughed, and for a moment, it felt like the world was okay.
But the moment didn’t last long. As if Milo had suddenly stepped between them, reminding them there was nothing to laugh about, both pulled back and avoided each other’s eyes.
Breathless and startled.
Tristan fought back tears and ran a shaky hand through his wet locks. Still drunk, he looked around disoriented. The bandage on his arm was soaked through. Leaf made a sad face and gently stroked his lover’s neck.
“Come on, I’ll help you out of these clothes. You can lie down for a while.”
Tristan nodded and hung his head. Leaf removed his shirt and helped him out of his shoes and pants. As he lathered Tristan with soap, his own damp clothes became heavier, so he took off his shirt and kicked off his shoes.
Tristan’s body was, in a way, the opposite of his.
Unlike his upper body, which was full of scars and tattoos, Tristan was flawless.
He talked about getting a wolf tattooed on his shoulder someday, but his fear of needles was just too great.
Somehow, Leaf was glad about that, because he loved his cream-colored skin.
As he reached for the shampoo, Tristan shut his eyes, only opening them again once Leaf had rinsed all the soap and turned off the water.
Leaf then dried him off with a towel and helped him to bed.
Tristan almost immediately fell asleep while Leaf applied a fresh bandage on him. Afterward, Leaf returned to the shower.